The Stalkers
by Oldest Man
Summary: Castle narrates a confession of sorts.  So does Beckett.  Nudged.
1. Chapter 1

An experiment in first-person narrative. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><em><span>The <span>__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Rick's Version

The first time I laid eyes on Katherine Beckett I knew I had to have her. I wanted to knock her off that high and mighty pedestal of hers and make her moan and beg and…well, you get the picture.

I knew that a woman like her would see right through me, would know me for what I am, a selfish and self-centered walking, talking Peter Pan who is used to getting what I want to play with and then, when I get bored, move along to the next one after carving a notch in my bedpost.

She became an obsession and I wormed my way into her life without a care in the world for how she might react. I simply craved a response. I wanted her moaning and begging and totally out of her normally rigid self control. I know people and I know a control freak when I meet one and Katherine Beckett is a control freak without peer.

I have money, lots and lots of money, and I owe a lot of the lots and lots to her. I created a Katherine Beckett to whom I would appeal, a Katherine Beckett who wouldn't think twice about getting naked and hopping into the sack and fucking me senseless and then keep coming back for more because she liked it – and me.

I created Nikki Heat.

Did I mention that Beckett is a control freak? When I wouldn't stay with the car, she handcuffed me to the steering wheel! That only had to happen one time and I got smart and stuck handcuff keys in my wallet and on my key ring. I even had a custom-made belt buckle that featured a key as the tang. If you want to knock a control freak off her stride, keep thwarting her efforts to control you. And I kept trying and she kept controlling.

Did I mention that she pinches, punches, and threatens ('_Castle,__I__have__a__gun__and__I__will__shoot__you!_')? She does. And it makes no difference to me that she does. It's all part of my Master Plan to possess Kate Beckett.

The first book featuring Nikki Heat came out and it was a great success. Even Kate liked it although getting her to admit it was a feat on the level of digging the Panama Canal with a spoon.

I 'guilted' her into showing up at the launch party and it was worth every frikkin' penny when I saw her walk into that ballroom wearing the dress I'd picked out for Nikki Heat to wear. I walked around with a hard-on and almost ended up screwing my ex-wife I was so damned…

I worked on my second novel in the Nikki Heat universe and worked my Master Plan almost every day. I fell in lust with Nikki Heat but kept my emotional distance from KB. She wouldn't let me call her anything other than 'Detective' or 'Beckett' so KB was a compromise that earned me a few black and blue marks and death glares.

Almost without realizing it, KB had thawed a little bit. I saw the woman underneath the emotional and professional armor that she cloaked herself in and I almost – almost – felt guilty about Phase 2 of my Master Plan. After all, I'd been hanging around like a dog in heat for almost a year and it was time to carve that notch. I wasn't getting bored, understand, but I was getting terminal blue balls but I wouldn't cave. The image I was projecting screamed 'You're so wrong about me, Kate. Take a chance,' and by God she did.

She let me inside, just a little, when she reconnected with Sorenson, the dickhead from the FBI who'd assumed she'd follow him to Boston and then was angry that she wouldn't throw away her career for the vague promise of something more solid in the future other than sharing the sheets and body fluids.

I used that and my continued shadowing to slip further inside, under her radar. We had lunch together, solved cases together, had drinks together but always within the scope of cop and shadow, never Kate and Rick. But one day, out of the blue it changed.

She told me about her mother.

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><p><span>Kate's Version<span>

I cannot believe that I've been saddled with a damned tag-along for as long as he wants to stay and do 'research' for a novel! I feel so – so damned angry. I should have developed evidence and put him away when I had the chance. It doesn't matter one bit that Castle was – there's a word out there but I just can't bear to use it and his name in the same sentence – innocent.

Fine. I'll do what I have to do but I don't have to like it. So what if he's the mayor's poker buddy. So what if he has almost as much money as the Federal Reserve. So what if he's handsome and charming and – ugh – I can't believe I thought that. He is. But I don't want to ever really see it.

He won't follow orders. He won't stay in the damned car. He almost got killed today! I'll – I'll give him an ultimatum. That's it. Stay in the car or stay home. No choice. If he breaks the rule, he's gone. Period.

Ha! Handcuffs! He actually looked like he was having a 'sexual moment' when I snapped the cuffs on him and then on the steering wheel. He looked – he looked so damned good with that look on his face. Glassy eyed. Mouth slightly open. I'll bet I could put that look on his face all night – I didn't just think that, did I?

We met before. A long time ago. I had buried myself in his novels as an escape when my Mom – don't think about it. I went to the bookstore to get a copy of his latest Derrick Storm novel and he was there, signing books.

I waited almost an hour in line, me in my patrol uniform and him sitting there, occasionally drinking from a Starbuck's cup. There was an attractive blonde standing behind him, casually running her fingertips across the back of his neck as if saying to the women in line 'Look what I get to take home with me'.

I got the definite impression he was less than thrilled with her attentions. Cops get really good at reading people and he was definitely wishing she was anyplace else but beside him. As I progressed through the line I saw that he was wearing a wedding ring and that _she_ was wearing a matching one together with a diamond engagement ring that probably cost more than I made in two years! I felt sick to my stomach for a second but then it was my turn and I just stood there.

"Are you going to let me have your book, Officer," he stared at my breasts and I blushed until I realized he was trying to read my name tag, "Beckett, Kate Beckett" I somehow managed to stumble out my name.

He looked at me, looked me straight in the eye, then opened the book and scrawled something across the dedication page and handed it back to me. I stood there like a dumb ass until I glanced up at the blonde. If looks could kill, I'd be one dead cop. There was raw hatred in her eyes and for a second I almost reached for my service weapon.

"Ah, Officer Beckett, was there anything else?" He looked at me with just the hint of a smile and I gushed out "No, thank you, Mr. Castle. I just love all your books." I walked quickly out of the store and over to the patrol unit.

"Well, Katie, I thought I had a hostage crisis on my hands. I was ready to call in SWAT."

"Shut up, Royce. Richard Castle was signing books. And I stood in line. Sorry, hon, I'll make it up to you after shift." He grinned and then pulled away from the curb and into traffic. I opened the book and read what he wrote and had the most amazing moment of sheer joy.

To Kate Beckett  
>Until we meet again<br>Please stay safe  
>Rick Castle<p>

It would be several years before I saw Castle again. I felt 'sheer joy' in my life for the first time in a long time even if I denied it at every opportunity and to myself.

I'd been in love, okay, lust that slowly has turned to something that I think is love, since the first time I laid eyes on him.

In my own way, I've been stalking him ever since that day in the bookstore. I have every book he's written. I have photos from his fan site that are available but require registration. My good friend Lanie is an official fan girl even if she doesn't know it. I've clipped gossip news and pictures from the Post and Times and some check-out magazines you glance over at the grocery store.

If anyone ever looks into my bedroom closet I'll probably be arrested as a stalker. A psycho stalker. It's wallpapered with his photos. It's my shrine.

And now he's mine. I can tell. I know he feels something more than lust when he looks at me. There is a depth in him that no woman has taken the time to notice. I saw the flare of love in his eyes that reflected the anguish in my eyes when I told him about my mother. He felt my pain and wanted to take it away. No one is that good an actor.

His mother sees it.

His daughter sees it.

And now, I see it.

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><p>Continue? It's up to you guys. Boredom makes me write and it gives me a chance to say 'I'm busy' to the Canadian July '70 Centerfold who spends the winters down here. Times are tough all over.<p>

OM


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ok, consider me nudged. Alerts and PMs and hits are a surprise.

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Rick's Version

Her mother's case was unsolved and the absence of closure explained a lot about Kate Beckett. I am sure, given the wide range of contacts I've amassed over the years, that I can present her with previously unknown information. She'll be so grateful. Mentally I'm sharpening my knife in preparation for the bedpost notching I intend to do.

I have to be careful. She told me not to look into it when I mentioned it. She told me it was off-limits and that if I even thought about looking into it, my shadow days would be over and I'd be left with whatever notes I'd taken over the past 14 months to write more 'Nikki Heat crap'.

I honestly considered just dropping it. It was an emotional time bomb for KB and I could hear it ticking. The more I thought about it, the more I put off making a decision. I called several of my 'experts' and convinced one of them to 'take a look at it with fresh eyes'. It couldn't hurt, could it?

I couldn't just walk into Central Files and ask for the cold case file on 'Johanna Beckett'. Nope. For one thing, I wasn't a cop. For another, Beckett would know within hours that an outsider had taken the file out. It had to be a three-step operation.

1. Get someone to get me the file.

2. Copy the file.

3. Return the original file to Central Files.

As I walk through the squad bay, Esposito and Ryan greet me in their usual way. After the ritual greetings, I nudge Esposito toward the break room and make my case to him. I left out 'why', of course. Esposito would kill me if he knew I was seeking out the key to his boss' chastity belt. He was like that. Beckett was a 'little sister' even though she could wipe up the sparring mats with him. It must be a Latino thing.

"It'll cost ya, Castle. If she ever finds out about it, I'll be on traffic duty in the Bronx before the day is over. It'll cost ya big, Writer Boy."

"Name your price." I had money.

"Not money. I want season tickets to the Nicks, down on the floor, a pair of tickets. And – and you pony up for any post-season games. In exchange, I'll get you the file on Johanna Beckett."

I liked Javier. He was a man after my own heart. I wanted Kate's mom's file for the same reason he wanted the tickets – to get some sweet thing between the sheets. I took the deal. And yes, I said 'Kate'. For something this intensely personal, she became 'Kate' to me. 'Beckett' or 'Detective' was just too impersonal.

"Deal." I already had 4-courtside tickets and I almost never went to see the Nicks unless I was trying to carve another notch in the bedpost. I usually gave them away as bribes or 'rewards'. Why do you think I never got a traffic ticket in New York?

"Castle, if she ever finds out about this, you're on your own. And bro, don't even think about giving me up if she does."

"Of course not, Javier. You wound me to think – "

"I'll do more than wound you, Castle. I'll kill ya, comprendes?"

Of course I understood. No one would ever find out.

Two days later, as Beckett giggles on the phone with her latest boyfriend – I could always tell when she was talking to that FBI Agent, she giggles softly and twirls her hair between two fingers - I make my decision, not even having the faintest inkling of how world-shattering it would be.

I want to be the one she giggled over. I want her to softly sigh my name in my ear as I took her. I want her.

It takes four months but my guy comes through and – and suddenly I wish I'd left it alone. I am sorry I've taken a short-cut to her bed. I am sorry – because it wasn't random street violence. It wasn't even isolated. I am sorry because – because reading the expert's report brought home something the sterile police report didn't – Johanna Beckett's murder was one of three that had exactly the same M.O., the same wound pattern and the same outcome. No one had linked them because no one thought to look past the scene of the crime. No one thought to ask 'why'. Everyone focused on 'who' when 'why' was the more appropriate question.

As I watch those silken lips caress her morning cup of coffee, I begin to have second thoughts. Maybe – maybe it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. What right did I have to bring her more pain and sorrow. God only knows what such news might do to her.

I was almost to the point of abandoning Step Two when I hardened my heart and my Johnson. Her tongue had slipped between those silken lips that I longed to caress with my own and licked a drop of coffee from the corner of her mouth.

It was one of the most sensual visual experiences of my life and believe me, I've kissed a lot of lips and tangled with a lot of tongues. I stare at her and change position on the hard chair to ease my sudden growing discomfort.

"Ah, Beckett, if all you're going to be doing is paperwork, I've got some writing to do. I'll see you tomorrow, Detective."

She doesn't even look up at me, just waves a hand casually as if shooing away an annoying fly and says, "Sure, Castle. You do that."

I get mad but paste that silly-assed smile on my face and say, "Until tomorrow, then" and walk out of the Precinct. Her casual dismissal hurt and when I was hurt I did one of two things: hurt back or leave.

I left.

I had written two chapters before the anger I felt towards Beckett began to cool and harden into something else. As I reread the chapters, I realize that I have placed 'my' character, Jameson Rook, in exactly the same position with Nikki Heat, except that Rook, the man I really want to be but fear being, had taken Nikki to dinner and then Nikki had taken him to her bed.

As I reread those words that I couldn't remember writing, as Rook brought Heat to fulfillment time and again in some of the steamiest scenes I'd even penned, I suffered, yes, suffered, an epiphany of sorts.

It wasn't sex that I want. Just like Jameson Rook, it wasn't my name I want her to whisper in my ear as she came. I want her to whisper 'I love you too, Rick' in answer to my own whispered declaration.

Shit. I am falling in love with Kate Beckett.

* * *

><p>Kate's Version<p>

We complete each other's sentences sometimes and it's both weird and strangely satisfying. Will Sorenson plopped back into my life and I watch as Castle comes to grips with the fact that I'm not the virginal woman he thinks I am. Sometimes, when I'm soaking in the tub reading one of his novels, it's his voice I hear speaking the words. Sometimes it's his hands beneath the bathwater touching me and getting me off.

I can feel the frustration radiating off him in waves as I talk to Will. Castle knows my history with Sorenson and I wonder if he also knows that Sorenson and I had reached the point where we'd seriously discussed marriage before breaking up?

Would he be surprised? Probably. Would he be surprised that I was the one who ended it? Definitely.

When I end the call from Will with 'okay, I'll see you then', I can see the little antennae on Castle's Beckett Minder begin oscillating back and forth seeking information from the air.

Castle is quiet and I can hear the wheels and gears in that wondrous mind of his grinding out possibilities. When he says he has writing to do, I casually wave him a goodbye but watch him as he walks to the elevator.

Is he angry? Disappointed that I didn't ask him to stay? No. That would be too much to hope for. His actions, or should I say lack of action, support his assertion that he has to write. I hope he softens Nikki Heat a bit and makes her less of a slut and more of a woman trying to find her path in a world with too many closed doors.

I loved his first book. I could identify with Nikki Heat as she tried to make a place for herself in a man's world. Heat used her body and her sexuality to force her way to recognition and respect just as I first used my looks and abilities to achieve the same goal. We weren't much different except that when I slept with a man it was not the first thing I did after saying 'hello'.

Toward the end of the novel, Castle injected Jameson Rook into her world. I mean, Nikki's world. Rook. Castle. Could the man be any more obvious? And why? Something for the fans? Granted, Rook was a willing foil to Nikki's salaciousness. Sometimes I find myself wondering if Castle the writer is trying to say something to Beckett the cop, something I can't quite understand yet.

Okay, there is an undeniable chemistry between Heat and Rook. You only have to read some of their more intimate scenes to feel it. Castle and I – we have chemistry, too. I can feel it and I know he can feel it, too. Like I said, we complete each others' thoughts so often that when he left, promising 'Until tomorrow, then', I felt comforted in knowing that at least one man in my life keeps his word, is there for me and respects my boundaries.

There is more to him than I thought and I'm ashamed of my earlier thoughts that I was just his muse and something he wanted to screw. There are depths to him that seem completely at odds with the Richard Castle he projects to the world. He loves his daughter with a frightening intensity that spells trouble for any of her possible suitors. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he'd asked one of the boys to run a background check on Alexis Castle's latest heart throb.

And then there are those courtly gestures that seem anachronistic in this day and age. He opens doors, greets people by name (his memory for names and faces is encyclopedic), wraps people in warm and comforting cocoon of caring at the least provocation – wait, that's only me he's done that to, and he doesn't seem to need much in the way of provocation at all.

I lean back in my chair, sipping my almost-cold coffee and smile to myself. Yes, I think…no…I know…one day…I'll let him in, and when I do, he'll never get out. Alexis will be a problem. Her father's disappearance into thin air and into my closet...

"Beckett, we got a body. You going to call Castle?"

"No, he's writing. What have you got?"

In my mind, I smile as I watch Rick, asleep on the bed, surrounded by his many photos and book covers that wallpaper the closet. He doesn't even seem to mind the handcuffs any longer…

"Yo, Beckett, you coming?"

"Yeah…just finishing up…" I shake my head to banish the daydream of Castle and I. Someday…


	3. Chapter 3

Short but important. Just leaving the loyal 36 something to read, is all. Enjoy the weekend.

OM

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><p><em><span>The<span>__Stalking_ by Oldest Man  
>Chapter 3<p>

Rick's Version

I am so angry right now, angrier than I'm sure I've ever been before in my life. I feel _discarded_.

I threw away my metaphorical bedpost notching knife, took a long look at my public lifestyle and my objectives and made a concerted effort to change. For what?

I tried to be the man I wrote Rook to be and I wished that Beckett would at least acknowledge some of the changes in me over the past year.

Instead, perhaps unconsciously punishing me, she's taken up with Tom-Terrific Demming, the lead Robbery Detective at the 12th.

'_No, she's not punishing me for her mother's case being brought back to life and pushed into her life. That's beneath her. No, Beckett's making a clear choice between me, who has had her back 24/7, and a man with whom she shares a lifestyle, another cop. I'll back off, take the high road, be her partner, become the better man and – '_

I open my laptop and pull up the latest Nikki Heat novel. I was trying something different this time around. I wasn't writing from an outline. I was writing from the heart.

And it was all bullshit!

She dismissed my theories, belittled my efforts and, worst of all, made light of my very existence in her life – and she's done it all while standing there with Demming beside her building theory, a statement in and of itself.

'Go fetch some coffee for us, Castle. Make yourself useful while Tom and I go over the case again…" she'd said as if I'm a servant, an assistant who makes her coffee while she makes goo-goo eyes at Demming and twists her hair around a finger.

I know that particular tell. I saw it with Sanderson and now I see it with Demming.

"Make myself _'__useful__'__?_" I muttered it out loud and Alexis, sitting in my office winged-back chair, studying, snickers.

"Yeah, Dad. It's about time you realized that you're not really very useful. Grams and I – "

It must be the look on my face because instantly Alexis is beside me, her arms around me, apologizing. She had meant one thing but her snarky one-liner… had struck home and hurt.

I'm done with her.

I take out my cell and ask Alexis for a few moments alone before I tackle dinner and I call Beckett as soon as Alexis is on the other side of the loft.

"Beckett. I'm kinda busy right now, Castle. What is it?"

"Hang up and I'll call back and leave a voice mail. Listen to it when you have a moment." I hang up and wait 30 seconds, 30 long seconds that I use to prepare my message.

I leave a terse but pointed voice mail identifying the killer and providing a well thought-out explanation, even offering evidence that had been staring the dynamic duo in the face since we first posted it on the board. And then I hang up. Let them figure it out if they can drag themselves away from – forget it. She's not worth another second of my time.

I feel – relief. No, that's not it at all. I feel empty.

* * *

><p>Kate's Version<p>

Castle has been acting really weird, even for him, since Tom got involved in our case. He keeps trying to get between me and Tom, not physically, but certainly verbally. His comments, his observations, his way-out-past-left-field theories, are getting us off track and we, Tom or I, have to patiently explain why it doesn't fit.

He goes off into one of his elaborate plot bunnies trying to twist the facts to meet his theory and I can tell that Tom's about had it.

I asked him to make himself useful and bring us some coffee. I really don't want Tom thinking he's a total ass because he's my friend and if Tom and I get together, I don't want needless friction between the two most important men in my life.

Castle needs to dial it down a notch. Tom and I will discuss this over dinner and I'll try and explain Castle's role in my life and why I want the two of them to get along.

I look up at Tom and I have to grin. He's handsome, intelligent, caring, and he seems to be honestly interested in me as a person, not a conquest.

Sure, Castle's backed off the rampant innuendoes, been more serious about the work I do, but it's not enough. He's still the spoiled little rich kid who buys his own toys and somehow he thinks he's bought me.

Tom looks at his watch and asks if I'm ready to grab a bite to eat and I nod, surprised that Castle's gone but glad since I really want to spend some time with Tom without having to hurt Castle by calling it what it really is – a date.

I'm walking towards the elevator when my cell rings and I see that the caller is Castle.

I answer as Detective Kate Beckett would, hoping he'll understand the distinction. "Beckett. I'm kinda busy right now, Castle. What is it?" I look over at Tom and I smile. I hope I get _very_ busy tonight. It's been a long time and I'm –

"Hang up and I'll call back and leave a voice mail. Listen to it when you have a moment."

He hung up without another word and I shrug it off. If it's case-related I trust him to demand my immediate attention but when he offers to leave a voice mail I know it's not important to the case.

I'm going out to dinner with Tom. That's important.


	4. Chapter 4

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 4

Rick's version

It's been a few days since I've shown my face at the Precinct. I just don't care. I have a book to finish and I've been helping Alexis out with an end-of-year school project. I'm doing the heavy lifting and nailing and painting while she does the cerebral stuff – thinking and the like.

I'm glad she takes after someone other than her parents. Her mother is a totally self-absorbed actor while her father is – me. Like I said. It's either a genetic quirk or – I don't want to think about the alternative.

Gina has been on the phone twenty thousand times, and no, that's not an exaggeration, about the final chapters of Heat. I'm blocked and I'm busy. I'm busy-blocked. I like the term.

I've kept busy with Alexis' project and I've sent any police department calls to voicemail and then I delete them. Yeah, it's petty and childish, but that's what I am apparently. Certainly childish. But never petty. I just don't want to listen to her go on and on about cases that no longer interest me or about Tom Terrific who _really_ doesn't interest me.

The good detective has dumped a pile of crap in her own mess kit. I asked her to join the family for a holiday weekend at the Hamptons but she said she had to work. Okay, someone's got to man the watch towers while the rest of us celebrate Memorial Day. I totally buy that. But then T-T, i.e., Tom-Terrific, comes by and reminds her that they've got that reservation at the shore for the holiday weekend.

Talk about a deer in the headlights! Part of me totally enjoyed how the blood flooded her face and how she wouldn't make eye contact and stammered out some flimsy half-assed excuse but most of me, the new Castle who wanted to be the man she needed, was totally pissed.

She lied to me. Miss 'Truth is Everything' Beckett curled her tongue up and lied to me.

I told her that the case we just finished would probably be our last and I hauled ass out of there, tail raised high so they could all kiss my – well, I'd have written it that way.

I have to go in tomorrow for a 'going away party' and I'll make my brief appearance, say 'hi/bye' and then hit the road for the Hamptons until September. I'm taking Gina with me. We've talked a lot the last few nights and I was reminded of just why I married her in the first place.

One door closes and another opens. Life is funny that way.

* * *

><p>Kate's Version<p>

I feel like crap. Castle's announcement that 'this will be our last case together', coming on the heels of my lie, makes sense in a strange way. I've hurt him. It wasn't my intention but I did. I hurt him.

I saw the look on his face when Tom interrupted my paperwork and Castle's fiddling with his cell phone with his 'reservations at the shore for the holiday weekend' announcement. I looked over at him and I saw the briefest flicker of despair in those gorgeous blue eyes before they became hooded and dark and he just nodded as I stammered through an explanation. He just nodded and said he had writing to do and left.

He walked into Montgomery's office and the two talked about something and then – and then he walked back to my desk and made his damned announcement.

He said that this would be our last case together and that he was behind on his writing and needed some time away. He was going to the Hamptons for the summer. He never made eye contact. If he looked at me at all he seemed focused on some point between us. I couldn't get a read on him at all. He was closed down. I had my walls and now he had his.

My calls go to voicemail and he's blown off Ryan and Esposito's attempts to reach him, too. They look at me with unvoiced questions in their eyes but never ask. Castle's their friend, too, and they know that somehow I'm the cause of his distancing himself.

When I go home to my new sublet I don't even have the comfort of my books anymore. They went up in flames with the rest of my stuff when that maniac blew up my apartment. My stalker shrine to Castle was a casualty and I remember a feeling of panic when Castle broke down the door and appeared through the smoke and frantically calling my name.

'_Oh, God, what if he finds the shrine?'_

He didn't, of course, because it was charred confetti strewn across the remains of my home. His warning had saved my life and he'd run blocks to get to me and then…

I need to end it with Tom. He's nice, a considerate lover, but there's nothing there. I don't feel any thing, just a physical gratification but there's nothing there emotionally.

He's not what I need. He's not _who_ I need. He's not Castle. I'll end it in the morning and then I'll pull Rick into one of the interrogation rooms and I'll ask him if his offer of the Hamptons is still on the table. I want that weekend with him.

I'm tired of pretending that he's not the one. He's proven over and over that he's not the vapid and shallow Page Six playboy the public sees and needs.

Oh, yeah. Tomorrow I'll wear the outfit he likes and I'll be honest with him. It's a first for me. I've never chased after a guy since Junior High. It feels good to have made the right decision for once without agonizing over the possible hurtful outcomes. I'm sucking it up and going after him.

He would never hurt me.

* * *

><p>Lanie Parrish<p>

I wish I didn't love Kate Beckett. I wish she weren't my best friend and I wish she weren't so damned closed off and fucking STUPID!

Rick Castle has the patience of Job. He brings her coffee, he listens to her patiently, never judging, just waiting for her.

This thing she has going with Demming and the way she flaunts it in front of Rick is just so wrong that I want to grab her and shake some damned sense into her.

_Oops, well, he's dead. I'll just suture it back on and no one will know the difference. I have to get my head back into this post mortem before I end up in front of the board explaining why a mutilated a corpse. _

So now Rick's going off to the Hamptons with his ex-wife? I almost feel happy for him. He's finally moving on and at least he's with someone he _knows_ will eventually betray him and he'll be ready for it.

Beckett seems to think she's the injured party in this drama but then, she's Beckett, the Center of the Universe, the Queen of Rationalizations. It's always about her. She shut Rick out, involved herself with Demming (_'__Tom__'__s __safe,__Lanie,__he__'__s __not __looking __for __a __commitment, __just __a __good __time__'_), changes her mind and expects Rick to be there, waiting for her?

She feels betrayed. He left with Gina. The man's not a mind reader and how was he to know that Beckett would change her mind (at the last possible minute) and decide to 'take a chance'. And now she's down here in my lab crying a river because 'he left with her, Lanie'.

I'm gonna hate this summer.


	5. Chapter 5

I'll be out and about for a few days. See ya later.

OM

* * *

><p><em><span>The<span>__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 5  
>"Summer Hiatus"<p>

Rick's version

I finished the novel after five days of marathon writing and then sat around working on my tan and trying to reconnect with Gina but after the first week I remembered why she was my _ex-_wife and so I sent her and the Heat novel back to the city for editing – the novel, not Gina. She'll never change.

I was bored and still very angry with Kate even though our last words were friendly enough. I toyed with going back to New York or calling or emailing but somehow I never got around to it. Somehow I let the time slip by, intending to 'do it tomorrow'.

There were parties and dinners and galas and it seemed like there was always something to do at night so time slipped away as my tan and my consumption of the locals' Summer A-list eligible females both improved. I lost my nights to meaningless sex and my days to the sun or, if it rained, a new novel that I'd been writing and re-writing for the past year or so.

It was an offering to that part of my readership that craved a different hero, a different kind of man, a man with human issues and weaknesses who still rose above and triumphed.

I was writing Jameson Rook without Nikki Heat and it was flowing from my fingertips like a mountain stream fed by the melting snow packs of spring. I was in the zone, had my groove on, and then – summer ended and so did my hunger for Nikki-less Rook. I'd written myself into a novel with no 'happy ending'. Rook was alone, without companionship, as was I.

I am heading back to the city. I miss my girls. I miss –

* * *

><p>Beckett's Viewpoint<p>

There is a joke about a woman who teases a gorilla and then gets too close and is dragged into the cage and ravished. When her friend visits her in the hospital she hears the victim mumble "He don't call. He don't text. He don't email. What am I gonna do?"

Okay, so I 'teased' him with Tom unwittingly and I wasn't 'ravished' or hospitalized but he doesn't call, or text or email. What am I gonna do?

June was easy to handle. We were buried in cases. July was worse and the month flew by. August saw a slackening of homicides and I met someone that I'm seeing, unbeknownst to the Castle supporters, aka Lanie, Esposito and Ryan.

Castle said he'd see me in the fall. Well, it's September and I don't see him, not that I'm all that torn up. The doctor is giving me frequent and _very_ thorough checkups and he assures me that my parts are all in working order – and he should know. He's handled them enough.

Still, it's September. Fall. The time after summer. Where the hell is he? His web site hints at a release of the newest novel in the NikkiHeat series in late October and that means he didn't waste the entire summer chasing after sweet young tanned things in bikinis. OMG, what if he _caught_one?

I still can't wait to read the dedication. But what if there isn't a dedication? What if it's like his earlier novels where he thanks his readers, editors and publisher? What if he's figured out that he doesn't need a muse to write a great novel?

What if he doesn't come back?

* * *

><p>Lanie's Musings<p>

Those two idiots are going to give me an ulcer. Okay, one of the two idiots – although I'm not sure that Writer Boy is an idiot. After all, Castle's failed to return to the 'scene of the crime' as do all criminals eventually.

Wait – Rick's not a criminal. No. The criminal is sitting at her desk, talking on the phone with someone and [gasp] twisting her hair around her finger just like she did with the FBI guy and Tom and – She's got someone scratching her itches! That bitch! I'm her bestest friend and she doesn't _tell_ me?

I need to talk to Javi and get the 4-1-1 on this new guy. I can't believe she's shut me out. Her and her damned walls. Well, she's about to discover that walls keep people _in_ as well as out. I can't believe this.

Castle, you better haul ass and show up or your muse is gonna be gone-pecan.

* * *

><p>Esposito's Problem<p>

If I didn't like her so damned much I'd tell her 'No' but I do so I can't. The problem: I don't know anything to tell her and Lanie will not take 'Sorry, no joy' as an answer. I look across the desk to my partner in crime and ask him what he's heard about Beckett and her newest sleep-over buddy but he's as much in the dark as I am.

I nod to the break room and Ryan finally gets the hint. Beckett's on the phone doing her usual hair twisting that signifies 'resolved sexual tension' so she doesn't even know that there's anyone else in the squad bay.

Ryan and I compare notes and come up with the same scenario: Beckett's got someone new in her and her life, identity unknown. Being detectives, we decide to 'detect' and Ryan agrees to hit the tech boys and get a list of incoming calls to her number and I drew the short straw – I get to follow her around tonight and see if I can figure out who this anti-Castle guy is and what we can get on him to make him go away.

It's September and Rick'll be waltzing in here any day now with coffee and bearclaw in hand as if it hasn't been 3 months since we've seen his sorry ass. The bastard didn't even call or email. It's hard to have his back when it isn't here.

* * *

><p>Ryan's Dilemma<p>

Oh, boy. This is not good. Beckett's calls are coming from University Hospital's main PBX so that's a dead end but also from a cell that's registered to a Dr. Joshua Davidson, MD. I googled him and he's a cardiologist and very big on the Doctors Without Borders program.

I print out what I found for Espo and I'm sure Lanie will have some insights (probably medical) and then some comments (probably scatological in nature) when she realizes that all that loot in the betting pool is going to have to be returned.

I can use my hundred bucks back and I know Javier can use his since his new squeeze, identity unknown, is taking up a lot of his time and money. I hope it isn't a hooker. No good can come from that. Surely he knows better? He wouldn't hook up with some pay-for-play girl, would he?

I'll talk to Jenny again about a fix-up double-date with one of the teachers at her school. If I explain things in simple, civilian terms maybe she can find someone for him?

He's my bro and I don't want him getting involved with one of hookers. A nice kindergarten teacher would be much more appropriate. Maybe she'll be able to teach him table manners.

Sheeze. What a mess.


	6. Chapter 6

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

A bit longer than I'm used to but I had the time.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Rick's Version

I walked into a buzz saw of anger and resentment when I returned to the 12th. It seems that it's my fault that Beckett broke up with the Robbery Dick (an anachronistic term for 'detective' but very applicable in either sense of the word) and didn't tell me before I left for the summer. I didn't call. Neither did they but that's okay, they rationalize their failure away because, after all, 'we're cops and don't have time to be calling you'.

Makes no difference now. None whatsoever. Beckett arrested me and that's how I 'returned' to the 12th. I was interrogated but released since 1) I was innocent but more importantly, 2) the ballistics on the murder weapon didn't match the pistol I held in my hand when they busted in. Lucky me.

Did they apologize for rousting an innocent civilian?

No.

Did she give me the slightest indication that she shared at least part of the blame for the debacle that was summer?

NO.

She has a new love interest. Dr. Leather Pants Motorcycle Boy. A doctor. A cardiologist. An interesting pair they make – the life-taker and the life-saver.

Josh. His name is Josh Davidson. Dr. Josh Davidson. Whoopee! I am not impressed. I have to wonder how sincere her 'offer' of joining me in The Hamptons was. I wasn't alone. Lanie and the boys hadn't known she was banging Albert Schweitzer and it came as a rude surprise to all of them – especially Lanie, her bestest friend forever.

It certainly didn't take her long to replace Demming once I was out of the picture. She let slip that they met in a bar and I wonder how often she does the bar scene? I never took her for a woman who would bar hop hoping to hookup with someone. I don't know Beckett at all. I thought I did but I don't really. Does anyone really know Kate Beckett?

No loss. I've hooked up with an attorney I met in the Hamptons. If I ignore her profession, she's perfect for me: vapid, shallow, insincere and – wait, that's the old Castle I'm comparing her to. I've backslid over the summer and you know what? I couldn't care less. Life is short and I'm on the wrong side of 35.

Cynthia Palmer is the epitome of old money. She talks without moving her jaws. She's tall and willowy and blonde and perfect arm candy for my public persona.

Mother hates her. ("Richard, really, a lawyer? My God, where did I gone wrong?") Alexis is withholding judgment until Cynthia acknowledges her existence.

Cynthia (never Cindy) is not big on kids and thinks teenagers should be sent to boarding school until they're old enough to be exactly like their parents.

Once we're in our bed, that all changes. She is a tigress with unbridled desires and a definite appreciation for the darker side of sex. She whispers that she loves me, really loves me, and then any conversation is lost in moans, entreaties and finally a long sigh as her kiss-swollen lips whisper my name.

It's enough for now.

I had lunch with Gina and made my request. She looked at me with those eyes that I fell in love with and only nods. It'll be done but she's not happy with my insistence on a 'quiet launch'.

"Ricky, there's no dedication and it's holding up production."

All I said was "Print it as is but add the novella and let's see if it increases sales." I didn't care. I'd just put the future of the franchise in a stranger's hands.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

It's nice having a boyfriend who isn't hovering and cluttering up the spaces in my life with his needs and wants. Josh is picture-perfect in almost all respects. He's a considerate lover, a bit rushed but that's to be expected. I'm new to him and it takes time to get over the initial excitement.

One of the nicest things is that he's got a job similar to my own and that means he's used to demands on my time that may disrupt our plans. That's a first for a non-cop boyfriend. Another nice thing is that he's gone a lot and when he does come around, there is no need for explanations.

He doesn't ask to sleep over and I don't stay at his place either. When we're done having sex we know the routine. Clean up, talk a bit and then one of us goes home. It's nice in a way. He doesn't screw up my schedule by being in the way when I get ready for work.

I kept Josh a secret for the last part of the summer partly because I didn't want to share him and partly because we basically met at a meat market bar and I don't want to spread the word that Kate Beckett cruises the bars for a one-night stand.

It never occurs to me (until much later) that if I was looking for a one-nighter, then maybe he was, too?

Lanie and the boys were surprised and I think a little hurt when Josh came to pick me up one evening. He was wearing leathers and carrying his helmet and he looked good enough to eat. Lanie's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline when he came by and then leaned over and we kissed.

Castle the asshole watched, he had no choice since he was sitting beside the desk, and I couldn't read his eyes. He's been different since he wheedled his way back onto the team and resumed shadowing me. For one thing, he doesn't prattle on inanely when I'm trying to work. He's quieter and he seems to be studying me but looks away when I catch his eye.

The only opening gambit either of us made about the summer was mine. "You didn't call, Castle" and he responded, "Neither did you, Detective." That was how three months of second guessing myself were summarized, compacted, truncated and then forgotten.

Our caseload was running light and he would leave rather than sit and stare or chatter like he did before the summer. I guess he has writing to do. I don't know for sure. I still get the coffee and bear claw regularly and he still leaves with some near-Shakespearian comment such as 'until tomorrow, Detective' or its like. Nothing so common or ordinary or plebian as 'see ya tomorrow'.

He still makes things brighter and lighter around the squad. We all missed that over the summer months, me more than most, I suppose. I don't know who 'Cynthia' is but she calls him sometimes and he always excuses himself and heads for the break room for privacy. I can sometimes see the look on his face when he's talking to her and I always feel 'displaced' and a little sad. No, I'm definitely not jealous but I do hate it when her calls interrupt our free association sessions or when we're building theory. He's mine during the time we're together and I don't share well with others.

All that has changed with the publication of his new novel, _Naked __Heat,_ that came out without a lot of fanfare, no launch party, no 'Castlextravaganza' to woo the critics, nothing much at all, really.

Except that in addition to the novel, there was a surprise bonus for those that pre-ordered one of the first five thousand copies printed – a novella entitled '_Penumbra_', a stand-alone from the Heat franchise and offered without explanation or fanfare.

I have to look up the definition of 'penumbra' to be certain I understood what the title meant. Castle could use words like some used a brush or a dagger and I have to be sure. Yes, I pre-ordered the book even though I expected to receive one at the launch party. It was a smart move on my part since he didn't even distribute 'courtesy copies' to us, his friends, and it didn't go unnoticed.

The novella follows Jameson Rook as he investigates a group of corrupt politicians sometime in the future. There are only occasional references to Detective Nicole Heat, and those are mostly anecdotal and historical, offered to flesh out the 'why' of her absence from his life.

Those 'anecdotes' are like stakes through my heart. Rook, tired of being the outsider, seeks out new challenges and ends up uncovering a conspiracy of political corruption, bribery, extortion and finally, murder.

Nikki Heat gets involved when the mayor asks the police commissioner to investigate the mysterious disappearance of his friend, Jameson Rook. Although there is no body, Detective Heat and her team are asked to investigate the crime as a murder.

The novella ends there with a teasing series of sentences offering the possibility of Rook's survival but placing resolution squarely on the shoulders of his ex-partner, Nikki Heat.

_Naked __Heat_ became a best-seller but the buzz on the forum boards was all about _Penumbra._ What did it mean? What was Castle telling us? Why was there no pre-launch publicity for _Naked __Heat_? Why was there no dedication?

I have read _Naked __Heat_ at least four times trying to puzzle out the meaning of _Penumbra_ but I can't and Lanie is no help at all in the process. Lanie has donned her black robes and is judging me. Damn you, Castle! You slide into my life, twist and turn it inside out for your own amusement and you end up turning my friends against me and for what?

* * *

><p>I finally meet the mysterious Cynthia when she calls you while we're at a crime scene and just happens to be a few blocks away. We're standing in the lobby of an office building and lo and behold, here she comes.<p>

Esposito is immediately in heat with Ryan almost humping his leg. Castle sees her enter the large lobby and I swear to God he has a look of irritation on his face, not the look of a man dating a supermodel lawyer and getting laid more than half of New York! Trouble in paradise?

"Rick, we're running late for our appointment. If you can tear yourself away from Beckett and cops and robbers business, in the next twenty minutes, we'll be at the caterer on schedule and then Paula can arrange for the publicity."

"Cyn, I lost track of time. What time is our flight again? I'm packed but have to swing by the loft to get my bags. I suppose you've laid on a car service for us?"

I don't think she heard him. We're locked in a staring match, each of us analyzing the other for some advantage and for the life of me I can't figure out why I'm so determined to win.

She's – perfect for him. Almost as tall as him in her 4" heels, a nice figure that's both understated and enhanced by her off-white linen business suit and her perfectly coifed hair and – and is that an _engagement __ring __on __her __finger?_

"Cynthia Palmer, this is Detective Katherine Beckett and those two over there are Detectives Esposito and Ryan. Cynthia is my – "

"Rick, the caterer and Paula and the airport? We're pressed for time, honey, and we really need to leave now if we're going to make our flight to L.A."

"Go ahead, Castle. We really don't need you here anyway," I cut in hastily, and with a tone of voice that made my 'inner Kate' cringe.

I didn't mean to make it sound like he's not useful because he is. He's already posited a theory that fits the crime scene and offers a lot of motives but my mouth has already hurled the barb and I can see that it struck tender flesh – not my intention - and I suddenly wish I weren't so damned sharp-tongued with him lately.

"In that case, I'll see you all in two weeks. Be careful, guys."

'_Guys?__' __He __didn't just refer to __me as '__one __of __the __guys', did he?_

He's gone before I can ask where he's going for two weeks and why don't I know about it? He's my partner and we're supposed to communicate with one another.

My last image of Castle is of her grasping his hand and leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. I can see the smile on her face – she's in love!

* * *

><p>LanieEsposito

"Javi, then what did she say?"

"Nothing. He walked away and she just stood there looking like someone had taken the last cookie from the plate. I'm telling ya, chica, there was so much unsaid between the two of them."

"It isn't like Castle not to get in the last word, even with Beckett."

"No, I mean between la rubia – the blonde – and Beckett. They locked eyes and it was like two superbabes with laser vision duking it out. It was hot, Lanie, and I wish Castle hadn't interrupted. They were bowing up like junkyard dogs and fixing to tear each other's hair out by the roots."

"Castle was worried about his sweetie? Aw, so cute. It's about time Writer Boy caught a break. So he's off to L.A. for two weeks and they talked about caterers and publicity and she had a rock on her finger? You're sure it was an engagement ring?"

"Beckett mumbled something about an engagement ring and then she was back in full armor and running us around following up on Castle's theory. We wrapped it up by 6pm with a signed confession and even got the paperwork done. Castle was right on target and even had the motive and back story that was eerily right. He was in the groove, Lanie."

"Why is he going to L.A.? Any idea? Beckett must have known. What'd she say?"

"Nothing that wasn't required for the job. She called her boyfriend once we finished up the paperwork and all I really heard her say was 'Josh, I'm coming over. We need to talk.' She hightailed it out of the precinct and was gone the second the Captain signed off on our paperwork."

"I think I'd better lay in a stock of booze and ice cream. I figure she'll call me tonight and – "

Her cell phone rang and Esposito cursed and got out of bed and handed her the phone after checking out the caller ID. Beckett.

"I'm heading home. Don't drink too much, chica. Tomorrow night – no phones, okay?"


	7. Chapter 7

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 7

Rick's Version

The two weeks in L.A. flew by and I found myself the 'Special Producer' and 'Screenplay Consultant' for the proposed _Heat__Wave_ movie. Cyn had stayed a few days and then had to head back to New York for some 'meetings'. I spent time with the writers, got a feel for the direction they were proposing and then flew back alone to New York.

While in L.A. I discovered something about Cynthia that shook me. She was into recreational drugs, a side of her that I never saw. Looking back, the signs had all been there but when I'm hard between the legs, I'm soft between the ears.

We were at a party given by studio execs and Cynthia disappeared for a while and when she came back, she was higher than a kite. There are two things I've never done: cheat on a girlfriend or wife and drugs. Never. No desire to, either.

Since neither of us had much to drink, I figured out pretty damned quickly that my Cynthia, the new light of my life, my rebound girl (okay, I admit it, I was trying to get into some kind of relationship after being heel-stomped to the curb just as the bus pulled up by Beckett) was into cocaine. Maybe it was the little residue of white that graced her nostrils, I don't know.

All I knew was that this woman was never getting anywhere near Alexis and to ensure that, she had to be gone from my life. I said she flew back for meetings? She flew back because I ripped my ring from her finger and threw her out of my life right after returning to our suite at the Beverly Hilton. It wasn't pretty and I probably could have done it better but the band aid analogy came into play and she was gone in the morning.

I drink, sometimes to excess, and I've slept with a lot of women simply because I was bored, but I never brought them home and I swore to God I was going to clean up my act. I was done with women except for my mother and my Pumpkin. I'd learned a valuable lesson.

I wrote a follow-up novella for my next book and set it aside to ruminate and age until I get back to it and see if it still sang its song to me after some time had passed. It took 7 hours to write and I figured I'd need some time to adjust to being unengaged again and that time would double as my 'aging' period.

I tentatively entitled my newest 'Rook Alone' saga _Shadows __without __Reflection _and set it aside. It was a darker story than I normally write but it reflects how I feel: betrayed and alone.

Some good has come out of all this. Mother called me and said that Cynthia had come to the loft, confessed everything to her and then checked into a fancy rehabilitation resort someplace in Florida. Apparently rehab solves all problems and absolved all sins.

No, it doesn't.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

Castle's back a week now from his two weeks in Tinsel Town and there have been no calls from Cynthia nor has he once mentioned her or said much about his trip to Los Angeles. In fact, he's even quieter now that I've ever known him to be. Something's going on in that head of his and I'd love to know just what it is.

"So, how's the newest Castle creation? I hope you don't think you're going to get away with another page 105, do you?"

I ask him in a joking way, trying to get some of the rapport we once had revitalized and get him talking but it's no use. He only gives me a dirty look and then goes back to his Angry Birds.

After about 20 minutes I hear him almost whisper, "I broke it off with Cynthia. Wrong girl, wrong time, right reasons."

I reached over and took his cell phone from him and set it on my desk. The look on his face was one I was becoming familiar with. The Great Stone Face. I know that I suppress my feelings and hide behind walls of my own making. Castle encases his individually in stone and never lets on how badly he might be hurt. We both have our own defense mechanisms. His are less apparent but much more effective.

"I'm sorry, Castle. You two really seemed to be…"

"Do we ever really know the people we fall in love with, Detective?" He doesn't seem to know that he's saying it out loud and I wait, holding my breath, for what comes next.

He looks at his watch and says, "I think I've bothered you enough for one day, Detective. Until tomorrow."

And just like that, he's gone. I have no idea what just happened except that I think, no, I know, that I just heard more than I was intended to. The funny geek with his crazy theories and positive outlook on people and life has left the building. The man who had been sitting beside me is just a hollow papier-mâché figure now.

"Castle! Wait a minute." I'm going to butt into his private life because I don't think I like how this is going. I want the old Castle back and I'm going to find him.

He stops at the elevator and waits clueless as to what's about to happen and when I put my arm through his and almost drag him onto the elevator I see a momentary flash of panic and then – resignation.

It's quiet in the elevator and that unnerves me and I can't stop my mouth from trying to break the tension.

"I'm sorry about Cynthia. I'm sorry about a lot of things. I'm hungry and you probably are too so let's head for Remy's. My treat." Maybe if I get him to talk I can figure out what's wrong between us and fix it.

"Rain check? I'm going to a meeting in a while and it's across town."

"Sure. Rain check, Castle. Just let me know when you want to cash it in." At least he seems willing to talk sometime.

He doesn't say another word, just smiles tightly and leaves. Something's off and I can't put my finger on it but something's just – off with him. Meeting? Sure.

I'm going to follow him. I want to know if he's telling me the truth or just trying to avoid being with me outside of the precinct.

* * *

><p>The cab driver does a double take when I say 'follow that cab' but when I slam my badge against the Plexiglas divider he just nods and pulls out into traffic.<p>

It's starting to rain as we pull up to the church in a neighborhood I'm really familiar with. I grew up here. I throw the cabbie his fare plus a nice tip and hurry out into the rain and up into the church, following Castle.

He's heading for a stairwell and I lag behind just enough to make sure he doesn't spot his tail. In the church basement I see a few men milling around the doorway drinking coffee and chatting quietly. Someone announces 'It's time to start' and I slip into the large room and take a seat in the back.

Castle is sitting quietly, probably thinking about how to work this as a scene in a novel. I see how his eyes scan the group and I can almost see the tension in his shoulders as the group leader opens the meeting and confidently says 'I am an addict.'

One by one, members of the group introduce themselves and talk about their progress, troubles, temptations and addictions. The man next to Castle finishes and sits down and there's a time, no more than a minute, when no one says anything, just waiting patiently for the newest member of the group to stand and introduce himself.

"My name is Richard Cas – "

"Stop! No last names here, Richard. That's the 'Anonymous' part of AA coming into play. Sorry, please continue."

"Um, well, I'm here because of a woman." He hesitates and then continues. I see a lot of heads nodding and I see one I know really well.

"We were engaged and I found out she was a cocaine user. I should have spotted the signs but I didn't. When I caught her high on coke she got at a party in Los Angeles I freaked out and broke off the engagement."

He waits to see the reaction. I think he expects condemnation but instead I see only supporting smiles. The woman to his left puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it in support.

"I have a 17-year old daughter and I can't bring an addict into the family. I feel – I feel like I'm letting her down. She checked into rehab for the 3rd time and I know how the statistics run on those places."

He speaks for a while and then stops and thanks the group for hearing him out and sits down. There's some discussion but the focus is on his girlfriend mostly.

* * *

><p>The meeting breaks up and I start to leave when I hear my name called. "Katie? What are you doing here?"<p>

"Dad, I came here – "

"Checking up on me? I haven't had a drink in – "

"No, I didn't even know where he was going. The guy, Richard, who talked about his girlfriend? He's my partner, Dad. Something was off with him and I had to know what."

"And now what?" He has that way about him of getting to the core of my problems. It's only been since my mother died that I see this side of my dad. Maybe it was there before but my mom always did the 'talking', probably because I was a girl.

"I don't know, Dad. He's my friend and he's hurting. I don't want him to think I'm spying on him. I don't know what to do."

"Listening helps if you can get him to talk. We get quite a few people in here from time to time with a story like his. We generally refer them to a family support group but I don't think your boy will go. I think he was looking for someone to absolve him of the guilt he carries. We can't do that for him. He has to find it within himself."

"I gotta go, Dad. I'll call you if I need some insight. I didn't come to spy on him or you, either. It's just that he's my best friend and we've both had some rocky times and – "

"Friend? Are you still denying your feelings, Katie?"

"I have a boyfriend. Castle's just a friend, my best friend, and that's all it will ever be. I have a boyfriend."

I lie to my father with accustomed ease. I've been doing it since I was a teenager. I do have a boyfriend but Castle and I – someday, maybe more than just my best friend. Josh and I are going nowhere and I know it even if he doesn't. I have one foot out the door and it's only a matter of time before the other one follows.

I don't do 'relationships' well at all. Maybe that's why I've held Castle at arm's length for so long until it was too late.

* * *

><p>I let my dad take me out to dinner and then drive me home. We had a good talk and I think some issues from my youth have been set aside but the one that we both always argue about is still in the background of every father-daughter conversation.<p>

The apartment is dark and unwelcoming. I think back to my brief stay at the Castle loft and I suddenly feel very alone and needy.

"Castle, I know it's late but can you come over? I have something to show you and I want your opinion and your help."

I am going to let him in.


	8. Chapter 8

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 8

Rick's Version

The AA meeting provided me with some ideas, a few referrals and some relief from the gnawing guilt I feel for abandoning Cynthia. If I was going to marry her then I had to have loved her and you don't abandon loved ones.

But I did.

Does that mean that love lost out against fear or was it just that subconsciously I was bailing from a relationship even I knew I shouldn't have been in? I meant what I said – I couldn't bring that woman into my home so long as Alexis was living with me.

My daughter's happiness and welfare are more important to me than having a wife and all that goes with it. A father's love beats a girlfriend all to hell.

I am trying to get into my latest novella but failing badly. I just don't care to read about how _I_ feel when I should be worried about what I've done to Cynthia. She fell hard and I let her drive the relationship bus even though our destinations were initially different. Did I love her? Maybe. Probably. Eventually, I would have loved her but not the way I…

No. I think I'm one of those people who fall into 'like' and think it's love. I don't know if I can 'love' someone the way that's popular in fiction and the movies. Rook loves Nikki heat but if I'm Rook, then it isn't really love at all. Just aggravated like.

I'm too tired to consider this right now. I'm going to finish off my drink and call it a night. I've been going since 6am and the meeting this afternoon really drained me.

I'm almost ready for bed when the phone rings and its Beckett. I almost let it go to voicemail. I'm just not up for a crime scene but I answer it anyway.

I'm dressed and out the door in 10 minutes.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

I feel guilty. Castle's had an emotional day and it's late and I just guilted him into coming over. I feel nervous but also relieved. I need to share this with someone else and who better than my best friend.

I tried explaining that to Josh but he just doesn't understand the relationship between Castle and me. It's unconventional, sure, but it fits what we do and who we are. We finish each other's sentences and sometimes I think he reads my mind. God, I hope not. Since he's come back from L.A. my thoughts have not been spring-pure.

My boyfriend is gone again and I wonder if subconsciously I'm using Castle to fill the void in my life? I've done it before, just not in the last 5 years or so. Well, there _was_ Demming and I knew that was a nonstarter from the beginning but I think I just kept him around to get a rise out of Castle. It turned out to be a big miscalculation on my part but rather than admit it, I blamed Castle for not being able to read my mind.

I'm nervous and my palms are damp and I haven't felt like this since Royce and I got involved. That was a really, classically, bad move on my part.

I finish straightening up the living room and move things around a bit to put some distance between us when he does show up. Then I move things around to put us closer together. After all, we're going to be butting heads about what I'm going to show him and you can't do that from across the room.

I catch my reflection in the kitchen windowpane and shudder. My hair is a mess and that's because, just like Castle, I run my fingers through my hair when I'm working something out in my head.

Bathroom. A few brush strokes and it's presentable. I laugh out loud. I'm worried about my appearance when I'm about to rip open our partnership and push something into it that may not fit.

What the hell was I thinking? This is too much, too soon. He's got his own problems and dumping one of mine on him is hardly fair. The man – the man tore his own heart out to protect his daughter from exposure to drugs. I can understand his thought processes a lot better than I though I would. My situation with my dad is pretty much a mirror image except that I moved out and pushed him into AA a bunch of times before he finally made it.

Castle has taken the choice away from the Palmer woman, protected his family regardless of the personal pain he must be feeling. If the situation were reversed, I don't think I'd have had the strength to throw away the chance for happiness over the welfare of a family member.

I'm pulling my phone from my purse to call him and tell him never mind when I hear his knock at the door – firm, decisive and unafraid. How can a 'knock' carry so much character?

I peep through the spy hole and grin. He's running a hand through his hair. He's nervous and uncertain just like I am.

"Castle, c'mon in. Thanks for coming over this late. I think it's important or I wouldn't have bothered you with it. I've been mulling it over all week and I finally decided that I needed to share it with my best friend."

"I though Lanie was your best friend?" Is he going to really make me say it? Doesn't he realize what I mean?

"Best boy friend. Um, male friend…partner?"

He just raises one eyebrow and then looks around. He's only been here twice before and it's smaller and less comfortable that my old apartment – the one he pulled me out of after running 8 blocks.

"Something to drink, Castle?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks. Why are you so nervous? What's so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?" Impatience? Truculence? Wariness?

I walk over to the blank wall an open up the drapes that cover my own personal murder board.

"This is my mother's murder board, Rick. I've never shown it to another soul and I want your thoughts and insights on what I've got and where we should go next with it."

He ignores me and walks slowly around the furniture to the wall and runs his finger across the 8X10 black and white glossy taken from her employee file at her firm.

I see him trace the jaw with the pad of his thumb, the cheek and chin with a fingertip. Finally he turns his head and over his shoulder almost whispers, 'She was very beautiful, Beckett. I can see where you get your looks from. She must have turned heads back in the day.'

It wasn't what I expected him to say at all. I could hear something in his voice that I could only say hinted at reverence and something more – sadness and loss.

He can feel my pain and I am lost.

* * *

><p>Rick's Version<p>

Beckett's apartment is a far cry from the loft I just left but it is enough for her, I'm sure. Some furniture has been rearranged since last I was here but basically it's the same place.

My eyes roam about and I don't see something I would expect to see – photos of family, friends and her boyfriend, the chest cracker. My first thought is that she probably lost all her memorabilia in the explosion and fire that followed and I wonder how I would handle things if all my family photos had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

She nervous and I wonder what bombshell she's going to drop on me this time. I've been toeing the line at the precinct so unless someone higher up the food chain has reevaluated the tag-along program, I think that's off the table. Perhaps she wants me gone because of what she mentioned some days before – Josh's concerns that I'm 'always there'?

No, I don't want anything to drink. I didn't come here for a social reason. I came because she called and sounded almost desperate.

She indulges in pleasantries and I ask her what's so critical that it couldn't wait until morning. I don't mean to take an impatient tone but it's there anyway. I'm tired and when I get tired I get impatient with social niceties that are totally irrelevant to the situation.

She walks across the living area and pulls back a pair of drapes that I always thought covered windows but had never seen open on the few occasions I'd been here.

It's a murder board. Her mother's murder board and I can see that she's made a lot of connections and a few suppositions but things like the timeline and possible suspects and motive are missing.

She says she wants my thoughts on what she's done so far and where _we_ need to go next. I don't miss the _we_ and I'm suddenly surrounded by a darkening room and the darkness is encroaching on it until only the photograph of the victim is illuminated.

Somehow I'm standing right in front of it and I can't help but notice the resemblance between Johanna Beckett and her daughter. I caress the image as I wished I could the woman behind me, tracing the strong jaw line, the perfect lips and the soft cheeks.

I feel something for this woman and her daughter. I feel a connection and a slow burning anger because she was taken from her daughter and that the taking defined the woman I'd come to care for very much.

What would Kate Beckett be today if her mother were still alive? How different would all our lives be if her mother were still in her life?

"She was very beautiful, Beckett. I can see where you get your looks from. She must have turned heads back in the day."

It slips out as a whisper and I look over my shoulder to see if I've stepped over the line with my comment. It was uttered aloud and I wish I could change the tone since it was said more about the mother but uttered for the child.

I am not prepared at all to see her face crumble in on itself and her palms press against it as she breaks down in body-shaking sobs.

Somehow she's in my arms and her face is against my t-shirt and it soaks up her tears. Her hands leave her face and slip under the leather jacket I'm wearing and pull me closer and I'm at a loss for what to do.

Tears. Kryptonite. No defense against them.

I can feel her pain and I'm lost.

* * *

><p>Kate's version<p>

I wake up in my own bed, fully clothed but covered with the comforter. It takes a minute or two but the memory of last night comes into focus and it explains so many things. I throw back the comforter and dash to the bathroom. My face is puffy and my eyes are red and I remember crushing myself against Castle's chest as the kindness and longing of his words tore open my soul.

He's gone. The living room is just as I left it except that the board is covered with yellow post-it notes written in his cramped but very legible handwriting. Some are questions, some are statements and others are both. He took the board and filled in a few blanks and questioned the 'answers' I'd written in other areas.

There's a note next to a full pot of coffee that says he's taking the day off to write and I feel a pang of guilt that he's working after being up half the night while I have the day off.

The couch where he held me, letting me have my breakdown in the safety and comfort of his arms, has been pushed back to its original space as if he tried to erase what happened by changing the room back to the way it was before he arrived.

I must have fallen asleep and he put me to bed and made his notes and then let himself out.

It'll take more than moving a couch to erase what happened here last night. For the first time in ages I feel hopeful and optimistic about solving my mom's case.


	9. Chapter 9

_The__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 9

Rick's Version

We're making real progress on Kate's mother's case. I've taken to pouring over the file copies looking for anything I might have missed. It's important to her so it's important to me.

The last two months have been exhilarating and frustrating. The closer I get to her the further she steps back. Every time I think I'm getting somewhere on a personal level either she brings up the Doctor or she steps back and slams the door in my face.

Today, she's up in Sing Sing, interviewing one of the men her mother was representing and she didn't want my company so I took the day off and here I am, reviewing files.

I spot something on one of the investigation reports that I've never noticed before. Maybe it's the late hour or my eyesight failing in my old age but something about the duty officer's typewritten name catches my eye and I put down the Scotch I was sippng and start going through my desk drawer looking for – aha – a magnifying glass.

The font on the typed name is different from the investigating officer's type font. It's been altered! It was done on a different typewriter. The lowercase 'L' on the letter is missing a serif as well as being a different font. I check for other examples but I can't find –

I hear the door bell and almost call out for someone to get it but I'm alone. Mother and Alexis are out. Alexis is at school and Mother is doing whatever it is she does when she's not here.

Now the person's knocking loudly and impatiently so I hustle to the door and pull it open, ready to give someone, a Jehovah's Witness or a pizza guy with the wrong address, a tongue-lashing but –

It's Cynthia Palmer, looking tanned and healthy and smiling like someone gave her a puppy. She says 'hello' and then kisses me and God forgive me, I kiss her back. I'm only human and when a beautiful young woman is pressed against me and playing tonsil hockey, I respond.

She says she's missed me and now she's clean and – and she wants 'her' ring back! I step back, untangling myself from her warm and toned arms and I can see the longing and desire in her eyes as she reaches for me again.

No. I tell her 'no'. I can't give her back the ring. I tell her the truth that I've only recently discovered about myself. I don't love her the way she deserves to be loved, unconditionally without reservation. I have reservations but don't tell her that. A white lie but a lie nonetheless.

Her face hardens and the loving look is gone, replaced by a rage I didn't know she was capable of. She tells me that if 'I can't have you, no one else will.' She crosses the few feet between us and presses a kiss against my lips and I feel a horrible blossoming pain in my stomach and somewhere in the back of my mind I hear a loud report and I'm falling and –

* * *

><p>Esposito<p>

I take the call from a uniformed patrolman and sigh. I was just sitting down to lunch with Kevin. Damned inconsiderate murderers!

I listen, jotting down particulars when I hear the address and I stop writing and ask for a repeat of the address. Castle's loft is in the building and the officer said it's a blood bath in the lobby.

I tell Ryan to Hoover his lunch because we got a hot one across town in Castle's building. He drops his Hoagie and is out the door before I can even get up. He's a good cop and a better friend and one of his friends might be in trouble.

I hold off calling Beckett until we know something that'll justify her 120mph run back from Sing Sing Prison.

* * *

><p>Ryan<br>Parkside Place

There must be 10 units parked haphazardly across the road and one unit is even on the sidewalk. There are the yellow police tapes running from the front of the building out into the center of the road. There are three ESU busses and EMTs are standing around waiting for the all-clear to take away the victims.

I walk up to the first uniform I see and get a sitrep. It's grim. Four dead including the perp who blew her head off when she saw the first squad car pull up and block the front entrance.

I get a list of the dead: Martha…I stop and stare at the uniformed cop and say a prayer, _Please__God__Not__Rogers_…Greenbaum, 77, Enzo Palermo, 53, the doorman, Lorna Stevens, 37, a resident and Cynthia Palmer, 35, the shooter.

Stevens was shot in the elevator, Greenbaum was shot when the shooter got off the elevator in the lobby as was the doorman who rushed over to help Mrs. Greenbaum and was murdered for his kindness.

The weapon was a .45 caliber M1911A1 army pistol. It carries 8 rounds in a magazine and there's one remaining. Where are the other 3?

I pass my notes to Esposito to copy and relay by phone to Beckett. I take another elevator up to the top floor and begin canvassing the neighbors for information. Nagging my mind is my earlier question: what about the other rounds, the missing 3?

* * *

><p>Esposito<p>

I copy Ryan's cramped script and call Beckett. I relay the information about the vics, telling her that the shooter is dead and that Ryan's canvassing the floors to see if anyone can add to the information we have.

She asks me to hand Castle the phone so she can go over the rules about touching again but I tell her Writer Boys AWOL, probably out running errands.

She says that she's called his cell a few times and it rings for a while then goes to voice mail. She laughs because Castle's going to be so pissed that he missed having a ringside seat to the carnage that happened in his own building.

Beckett wants to know what we have on the shooter and when I tell her the shooter's name I swear she screams out Castle's name and then starts issuing orders.

The shooter is Castle's ex-fiance and she's supposed to be in Florida in rehab. I'm to go up and make sure Castle's not home and then I'm to call her back. I hear the siren on her Ford start to scream and I know she's hurting and afraid because her breathing, for Beckett, is erratic when she hangs up the phone.

I catch the next elevator and step out into Castle's loft's hallway. I call his cell and I'm directed to the right door by the sound of 'I'm Too Sexy', something about a shirt.

I pound on the door and then try and open it. Ryan opens the fire door from the stairwell and hustles over and together we try shouldering the door open. I tell Ryan to call for ESU and a battering ram but he shoves me aside and blazes away at the lock with his Glock.

* * *

><p>Ryan<p>

Can't wait. I'm afraid we've accounted for the missing 3 rounds of the shooter's magazine. I shove Javi aside and start shooting the lock out. Now it's Javi's turn to shove and he kicks in the door and…

I can smell the coppery tang of blood, a lot of it. We clear the room and walk into the living room and there's Castle, spread-eagle on the carpet in a pool of blood. There's so much blood and I think I'm going to puke but I swallow back the bile and call in an 'officer down' and give the floor and apartment number.

Esposito is holding a kitchen towel across Castle's stomach and pressing down, muttering in Spanish. I guess he's praying because I hear 'Maria, Madre de Dios' several times and I realize it's a Hail Mary prayer.

I join him.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

I call Castle again even though I'm weaving in and out of traffic and can hardly hear the ringing over the wailing of the siren. I hold the phone to my ear but don't dare to take my eyes from the road.

It rings and rings and goes to his voicemail.

* * *

><p>Ryan<p>

I hear Castle's cell phone ringing someplace and I walk off to find it. It might be his mother or daughter. Crap, we need to get them to the hospital somehow and I don't have any numbers for them.

I find the phone and the missing two (one's in Castle, I hope only one) rounds. One is in his laptop computer and the other is in a picture he has on his desk of him and Beckett in happier times.

I answer the phone and it's Beckett. I tell her what I know and she says she'll contact Martha but that I should get to Alexis' school and bring her to the hospital. She gives me the school address and I tell Esposito who's now standing around watching the EMTs do their thing.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

The road is blurry and I pull off to the side and just sit there, bawling like a baby. I need to stop being a girl and pull myself together and get to his side. Under control, I pull out onto the road and head south to the city.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Rick's Version

I can't breathe. The pain is…

Wait! Don't tear the shirt! It's a New York Rangers…

* * *

><p>Esposito<p>

I'm pressing a kitchen towel against his wound and it's already saturated with his blood. Where the hell are the damned paramedics?

I know I'm mumbling prayers because I can hear Ryan echoing them in English. It's the best either of us can do at this point – pray.

Here they are. I step back and look for Ryan but he's on the phone with someone – probably Beckett – and writing down something on a scrap of paper on Castle's desk.

The paramedics are already putting him on a gurney and I wonder if it'll fit in the building's elevator? I don't remember how big it is.

Ryan tells me something but I just shake my head and look at my hands. I can't go anywhere near Little Castle looking like this. I have blood all over my shirt cuffs and hands. Alexis doesn't need to see this.

I tell Kevin to go get Alexis and I'll go with Rick. He's 'Rick' now when I speak about him. I keep 'Castle' safe in my mind.

* * *

><p>Ryan<p>

I'm in the principal's office waiting for Alexis to be called down. I'll bet she's never been in here other than to receive some award. Little Castle's not the type to cross the line.

I hear her in the outer office and I stand and wait but then remember exactly why I'm here and I nod my thanks to the principal and then walk out and take Alexis by the hand and lean down and whisper that we need to hurry, that her Dad's been hurt and needs her.

Emotions ripple across her face but she doesn't cry out or ask questions. She hardens her face with the same determination I've seen on her father's when he's taking a stand against something or someone and tugs me after her as she almost sprints out of the office.

* * *

><p>Alexis<p>

When I see Detective Ryan in Mr. Gahagan's office I know that something's happened to Dad. He whispers that 'he's been hurt and needs me' and hear my father's voice telling me that 'it's going to be okay' and that I need to be a big girl and meet life's challenges head on.

I drag the detective after me as I run, smashing down hard on the sob that tries to crawl up my throat and scream 'Daddy!'

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

Martha's not answering her cell and you just don't leave a voicemail telling a mother that her only child has been shot and may be dying. Instead, I tell her that it's urgent she call me and that Alexis is being picked up by one of my team and will meet her at the hospital. I lie, blatantly and without reservation, that it's serious but not critical and that she should call me.

I glance down at the speedometer and gas gauge. The big Ford Interceptor was not designed with a long haul, high speed run in mind and I curse knowing I'll need to slow down and stop for gas when Castle might be –

No! I can't allow myself to even think of such a thing. He's – he's my partner and my best friend who makes my life so much brighter and promising.

* * *

><p>The hospital waiting room is a zoo. Alexis sits with Lanie while Esposito avoids her and asks for some scrubs and a place to wash up. Ryan is talking to a bunch of street cops who followed on behind the ambulance and are doing whatever they can for anyone, which isn't much.<p>

* * *

><p>Lanie<p>

How can I put a good face on this when the odds are that this girl's father will die on the table? I know she thinks I'm BS'ing her and she's right. I just don't see a happy ending here no matter how much I pray for one. I've seen too many abdominal GSWs go south due to any number of complications.

Javi said the blood was bright red and that generally connotes arterial flow. Ryan said it was a 45 caliber and that puts a big damned hole in a human being.

I suggest to Alexis that we slip down to the cafeteria and grab something for the others but she just keeps hugging herself and says 'No, Dr. Parrish, I need to be here in case he needs me.' There's nothing I can say to make things better so I don't try. I just put my arm around her and let her know we're all here for her.

A nurse comes out and asks for blood donors and the uniformed officers all queue to donate. I know what that means and when Alexis looks up at me, I smile.

"It means he's being pumped back up with the good stuff, Alexis. It's a good sign. The hospital just wants to keep a fresh supply on hand."

Liar.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

I begrudge every second I waste filling up the tank and waiting behind some dumb ass who wants to buy lottery tickets for people in his office. Each person has a favorite number and finally, after 3 long minutes, I flash my badge and throw money on the counter and then run back to the car and head south to the city.

I'll be going against traffic until I hit the Cross-Bronx Expressway and then the bubblegum light is going to get a work out. I call Lanie and it goes to voicemail. Driving one-handed and hitting 90+ is dumb but I have to talk to someone who knows something. Espositio's phone goes right to voicemail as does Ryan's. That means all three are in the hospital where cell phones can't be used.

Forty minutes barring traffic. Forty minutes and I'll be there and – and I'll know that he's going to be okay and then I'll sit down and have a good cry in the ladies' room.

* * *

><p>A nurse dressed in operating room scrubs and booties comes out and asks for the family of Richard Castle. She's surrounded by cops and two redheads who are holding on to each other in fear.<p>

"The doctor will be out in a few minutes to fill you in but Mr. Castle is in recovery and will be transferred to ICU as soon as he's cleared. That's all I know."

* * *

><p>Lanie<p>

That damned cutter better have his ass out here pronto or Ima go in a drag his overpaid ass out of there. We need information and not some schedule of events. We need to know –

The surgeon comes out after changing scrubs and that's a good sign. If he just walked out in bloody scrubs and wearing that silly little cap on his head and took it off, it would be bad news. That's pretty much the way things work with surgeons. If they failed and the patient died, they want the survivors to see just how hard they worked.

"Mr. Castle is in recovery and he'll be transferred to ICU as soon as his vitals have stabilized. He's getting additional blood but he's breathing on his own and that's a good sign. Just be patient and someone will be down to tell you when he's been moved and a room number. He's strong and has every chance for a full recovery."

He slipped away, ignoring follow up questions.

* * *

><p>The press, however, do not 'slip away'. They're encamped outside the hospital's ER entrance and broadcasting and rebroadcasting different versions of the same story, profiling the dead and especially Cynthia Palmer, the alleged shooter. Sex, drugs and murder were all the public seemed to want: a spurned lover flees from rehab, confronts her former fiance and shoots him and then angrily shoots her way out of the building but kills herself rather than face arrest.<p>

TV crews relentlessly prowl the parking lot looking for anyone in a police uniform and this is the arena Kate drove in to, lights flashing and siren wailing. She parked at the ER entrance and ran inside ignoring the shouted questions, concentrating on getting inside and to Castle's side without further delays.

* * *

><p>Lanie<p>

I see Beckett charge through the ER door on my way out to use my cell phone. Esposito lags behind me but I need to check in with my office and make sure I haven't missed any assignments while I had my cell off.

I call to her and she's in my space in a heartbeat asking how he is and where he is and if I know his prognosis.

"Kate, he's in recovery and will be in ICU when his vitals are stable. Martha and Alexis are here and I think you need to spend a few minutes with them. I need to call the office and make sure – hell, Kate, just go."

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

Recovery and ICU – music to my ears. I was so afraid I'd be greeted with, 'You're too late, Kate. He's gone.'

I've done a lot of thinking on the mad dash down from Sing Sing – Josh has to go. Castle has to stay. He's more than just my best friend and partner. God help me but I think he's the one – my mythical one and done.


	11. Chapter 11

I'm wrapping everything up so watch for final chapters clearly labeled Final Chapter in the next week or so.

* * *

><p><em><span>The<span>__Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 11

Rick's Version

I can taste something coppery in my mouth and I want to vomit but it's just too much of an effort. Breathing is an effort and I wonder if it's even worth it. I hear people talking but it's like hearing people talk when you're in another room – muffled and incomprehensible.

I hurt.

Martha

"Alexis, he's going to be all right. You heard the doctor. He'll need both of us with him if he's to make a full recovery. Why, in a few months he'll be rolling around doing one of his famous 'death scenes' after you shoot him playing – oh, God, he was home, supposedly safe and then that woman – "

A parent should never have to bury their child. It wasn't the way it was supposed to be…

Alexis

"Grams, you need to sit down. We just studied the digestive tract in Anatomy and the teacher talked about how people can live normal lives after losing more than half their intestines – I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry. I'm sure if he had major problems they'd tell us, wouldn't they? Grams, please don't cry…"

Lanie Parrish

I flash my badge and ask to see the medical files on Richard Castle for 'file closure purposes' and I'm surprised when a nurse hands them over and points me to the copy machine to make copies.

I quickly scan the files and my heart drops and I tear up because I know the long and painful road ahead for Castle and his family.

I debate whether or not to tell Beckett the long-term consequences of his injury and decide that Castle's privacy is more important than Beckett's "feelings" that seem to be on-again, off-again.

I doubt that we'll ever see the smiling face of Richard Castle in the halls of the 12th or anywhere else again. He's got too much pride to suffer the pity of others.

Beckett

When are they going to let us see him? I know he won't be awake but I need to see him, to touch him, just to reassure myself that he isn't dead. He's become more than my partner, although I fought against him every step of the way but he used his damned ninja skills to slip past my walls, overwhelm my defenses and capture my heart.

Alexis is talking quietly to her grandmother who just looks off into the distance. I can see the sheen of more unshed tears glistening in her eyes and I marvel at this woman's strength to resist giving in to them. She's the source of Castle's strength of character and it's passed down to Alexis also. She's only allowed herself one bout of tears and that was only because Alexis had tried to console her by discussing how people can live normal lives after…

When are they going to let us see him?

A doctor, Castle's doctor from the response of Alexis and Martha, walks slowly into the waiting room and explains Castle's condition and treatment.

He decided that for the well-being of his patient and for a smoother and less painful recovery that he should be placed in a medically-induced coma for an indeterminate period of time.

"You'll be able to see him in an hour at the most but I have to prepare you. He's not in any pain at all. We're seeing to that. He has a tube down his nose that will deliver his nutrient needs. Later, depending on his recovery, we'll replace it with a 'peg' that will do the same thing but will be connected directly to the stomach through his abdomen. Once his system has sufficiently recovered from this severe trauma, we can remove the 'peg' and he can begin eating normally by mouth."

Martha asks the question that's on everyone's mind. "When will we be able to speak with him? How long will this coma last?"

'A few days, a week at the most', is the reply and it's both reassuring and frightening.

Alexis asks the other question that's on everyone's mind and the answer isn't at all reassuring. "When will he be able to come home, doctor?"

"When he's discharged from the hospital it will have to a convalescent facility. Unless you can hire nurses 24/7 for the first few weeks, it's the best option. I have several that are excellent facilities with outstanding track records for returning patients healthy and happy back to near-normal lives."

"Near normal?" I hear my voice ask the question and I curse myself. I'm not family and I don't really have any right to ask questions. I'm the outsider here, despite my long-term plans for Richard Castle.

"Well, the biggest barrier is weight control. He'll lose weight here simply because of the nature of the nutrients he'll receive and in longer term care while his body adjusts to it's new situation.

"What about working? He's a novelist but always does real-life research – " I had to ask. I wanted to ask 'Will he come back to me' but I depersonalized it.

"For the first few months, it will be all he can do to maintain a controlled exercise regimen. His research, as you put it, will have to be drastically curtailed until he regains his strength."

After a few banal pleasantries, we were told that a nurse would take us to his room once he was stable.

Comatose Castle

They say you don't dream or even exist in a coma but whoever 'they' are, they're full of shit. I dream. I think I can hear things but I'm not sure. All I know for sure is that I can't move, speak, open my eyes or even grunt. I'm floating and, oh joy, I get to relive those last few seconds before I passed out. Over and over and over.

Pain. Burning pain in my stomach and the last sight I have is of Cynthia's face all contorted into hate.

Maybe I'm not in a coma. Maybe I'm dead? Will Kate know to look at what's on my desk? If there is a God in Heaven, please let her look. It will answer so many questions and open up so many doors for her. Maybe if she solves her mother's murder then she'll be able to cut loose the albatross that hangs about her and find happiness with the leather-clad motorcycle doc.

This is Hell. I'm dead and I've gone to Hell.

Beckett

It's been 6 days since I've seen his smile and it feels like 6 years. We've been taking turns 'Castle watching' and I think I've memorized every thing about him that visible. His fingers are wrapped around mine and I know it's just a normal physical reaction but it feels like he's holding my hand.

I've been sitting here so long that I think my ass has gone numb. His hands are so cold and the nurse says that's 'normal'. What does she know what 'normal' is for Richard Castle? I don't think he's been this quiet, this unmoving if you totaled up all the quiet times and still moments since I've known him.

The doctor says they'll try and bring him out of the coma tomorrow. It was the 'try' that set Martha off, that and the appearance of Meredith Rogers, already dressed in black, as if this were a funeral parlor and not a hospital room filled with love and hope.

I'll never forget Martha's comment to the doctor: "Try? Try! You'll damned well DO or I'll have your license and everything you own, understand? He's my boy and I need him back from wherever you've sent him. He's her father and she needs him. He's her partner, and they need each other, so don't you dare say you'll _try!__"_

You could have heard a pin drop on the sheets covering Rick, it was that quiet. All you could hear was the shushing sound made by the ventilator and the quiet beeping of the heart monitor and other gadgets.

Meredith made the incredibly crass effort to calm Martha down and she caught a shotgun blast full of years of pent-up fury and hurt.

"You only came here for a photo op, you damned bitch. Kate, take Alexis out, dear, while I straighten out her _absentee__mother__…"_

I don't know what exactly was said but the door banged open and Meredith stormed down the corridor and out of our lives forever. Alexis chuckled about the 'wrath of Grams' and suddenly I knew that things would be all right. Facing a mother like Martha, the doctor would go to Hell itself to bring her son back. A formidable woman, Martha Rogers.

Now all we have to do is wait until the medication takes effect and then we'll all be able to breathe a sigh of relief.

24 Hours Later

"He's sleeping. You don't really rest in a coma and he's exhausted so he'll sleep for a good while. I suggest you all do the same. The nurse will page you immediately if he awakens enough to talk. Just remember not to tax his strength." The do

Martha asks me to come back to the loft with them to 'freshen up'. I've been here 36 hours straight and I need a shower and a change of clothes so I thank her but decline and head to my apartment.

I strip off my clothes and I vow never to wear them again. After a shower, I set my alarm for 2 hours and nap.

And dream about Castle and I on some white sandy beach lying in the sun on our honeymoon. It's a restful and satisfying dream and when my alarm awakens me, I feel refreshed and positive for the first time in a long time.

Life will be interesting in the days to come but I won't push him away any longer. Martha was right. We're partners and we need each other. I want that beach dream to become a reality.

My mom's case is stalled and I think that stepping back from it and reordering my life is on my personal agenda.

I let him in and it was very rewarding. Now I'm going to close the door behind him, bolt it and never let him out.


	12. Chapter 12

Instead of partying all through the weekend, I'm sitting in the Medico Centrale Americano Hospital. Cam took a tumble down some steps and broke her shin bone and tore some tendons this afternoon, so I'm sitting here with my laptop while we wait for the doctor to give us the green light to go back to the hotel. At least the atmosphere feeds the bunnies of my mind...

Short but bridges the gaps and eliminates a few stumbling blocks for the dynamically retarded duo. If they ever get together, it'll be back-to-back.

OM

* * *

><p><em><span>The Stalking<span>_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 12

Alexis

I wish Kate had come back to the loft with us. There is so much to talk about but I can understand her reluctance. The stain on the carpet won't come out and Grams has covered it with a sheet until the new carpet can be installed. It's a constant reminder of what that woman did to my dad.

I want him to stay home and write and never go out again except to book signings and launch parties and then only with a bodyguard. Maybe Kate would accompany him? Keep him safe from all those nuts out there?

She seems to be more relaxed around us now. Maybe it's because of how we all have sort of bonded because of my dad's injury? I saw the look on her face when my mother showed up. She was jealous! Kate's face turned bright green and for just a moment I saw her hand twitch as she unconsciously went for her gun.

If anyone can keep him safe, it's Kate Beckett. Hmmm, Kate Beckett-Castle? Kate Castle? I like either of them.

* * *

><p>Martha<p>

I have a list somewhere of all the things that need to be done in the event of hospitalization. I made it out so that my son and granddaughter would be spared the agony of figuring out 'what to do with Grams'.

The doctor talked about long-term convalescent care but my boy is not going to some warehouse in the suburbs where they'll pay attention to him when visitors come by or are expected.

No. I have a friend whose mother had a stroke and she kept her home with her. I'll call her right now and get her input on nursing services. That's pretty much all I can do now.

I definitely need a nap. I can't believe that rancid Bitch had the nerve to show up at his bedside after all this time and…

I need a drink and then a nap.

* * *

><p>Beckett<p>

I can't believe I slept right through the alarm! I should have gone back to the loft with Martha and Alexis but I desperately needed clean clothes and a shower. It won't be pretty picture if he woke up and saw me all puffy-eyed and makeup-less. It's bad enough that not even THREE coats of concealer can hide the stress and puffiness of my crying jags and the damned dark circles under my eyes from sleeplessness.

How are we ever going to get together if he's disabled? I know Rick Castle. He's a proud man and will 'absent' himself from the 12th and my life if he's less than he was before the shooting. I promise I will never rag on him about his fitness levels ever again.

I don't care if he's less than he used to be. I only care that he's alive and mine for the taking. I want an 'us' and this time there won't be any slipups, no thoughtless comments, no second guessing my intentions.

He's mine. I'll wrap him up in cotton wool and keep him safe and happy. I'll be a second skin and we'll finally be happy together. It's what I want and he's what I need.

He'll just have to accept the fact that Kate Beckett loves him and adjust to the new paradigm of 'Caskett' or better yet, Castle/Castle. Yeah, I like that. Kate Beckett, wife of Richard Castle. No. Kate Beckett-Castle. Naaah, Kate Castle, wife of Richard, mother of…

Whoa! Better get him healthy and on the same page before I start picking out names.

I need to get to the hospital. I want to see him wake up. I need to see his baby-blues and see if he's lucid enough to understand what I have to tell him.

My cell rings and it's Alexis. He's waking up a few seconds at a time and then falling back to sleep. The doctor says that it is normal and natural but that I should try and come by soon. I tell her "On the way, Alexis!" and head for the door, smiling for the first time in a while.

Just as I open the door, Josh Davidson gets off the elevator and smiles at me. "Hey, Katie! I got back earlier than planned. How's my girl? Going out? To work?"

"No, I'm going to the hospital. Castle was shot by his ex-fiancee and he's in bad shape. I really need to get going, Josh. I'll call you when I get time. We need to talk."

"I guess she figured him out and got even with him on behalf of women everywhere, huh? So, is he going to die?"

I can't believe it! How – how crass and unfeeling this asshole is! And I regret ever letting him touch me. I feel unclean remembering our last time in bed. All our times. I realize I was using him to hold off my 'Castle feelings'.

"He broke off his engagement because he discovered that she was a coke addict and he needed to protect his family. She left rehab after three months, returned to New York and shot him in his apartment and then killed three other people before killing herself. He can't die! He's too damned – listen, Josh, this isn't the time or place for it but it's definitely long overdue. It's over between us. I just don't – I love Richard Castle, okay? I'm in love with him and have been denying it to myself for more than a year. Move. I have to go."

"You can't be serious? He's a flake, a playboy, an old man, for God's sake, Katie. You and I, we're perfect for each other. Don't throw all this away because you're feeling sorry for him. He didn't love you if he got engaged. He's a player. I'm here for you, you know that."

He put his hand around my wrist to stop me from stepping past him and than he jerked me around to face him.

"Don't you dare walk away from me! You told me you loved me! You were the one who hinted at marriage and a family and now you're – you're dumping me for a man with the morals of a – an alley cat? A man who walked away from you and left with his ex-wife after you'd broken up with that other detective? _That_ Richard Castle?"

His accusations stung me and I tried twisting my arm free but it was no use. "Let go of me, Josh! You're hurting me." I put all the authority of my cop-self into my words but he just jerked me back against the wall using the grip on my wrist and his height to his advantage. I was stunned by both the impact and the violence of his actions.

"I'm warning you…let me _**go**_!" The bastard just grinned and then tried to kiss me! I kneed him in the groin and as I got on the elevator I saw him on his hands and knees throwing up. I had an irreverent thought: the landlord was going to be pissed because he'd just re-carpeted the hallway.

* * *

><p>Castle<p>

The pain in my guts is so bad it wakes me up. I remember now. Cynthia…kissing me and then such ungodly pain in my stomach…

I need help.

Martha

I've dozed off but the pain-filled groan I hear brings me to my feet and to my son's bedside. He's grimacing even in his sleep so the pain must really be bad. I send Alexis for the nurse and hold his hand telling him that I'm right there with him and that help is on the way.

I don't know if he can hear me but his grip on my hand tightens momentarily, whether acknowledging my words or just my presence, and then loosens as he falls back into a troubled sleep.

Beckett

I get off the elevator and both Martha and Alexis grab me and hustle me off to a waiting room. The doctor is in with Castle and he's in and out of a drugged sleep and on some 'heavy pain medication' as Martha terms it.

"Kate, darling, the doctor says he's in a lot of pain so they're upping his dosage and he'll be hardly awake at all for the next day or so and we've been politely told to 'go home' since there's little we can do but hold his hand. He's 'progressing nicely'. I'm taking Alexis home but if you wish to stay, of course you're welcome to. I just – "

"Of course I'm staying. This is where I need to be. If you don't mind, I'll stay at the loft tonight. Alexis needs someone to talk to. I know, Martha, because I've been there. Just tell the doorman to expect me."

I settle in for the night, pulling the chair over beside his bed and threading my hand through the maze of wires, tubes and gadgets on the raised side of the bed and grasp his hand. It's the first time I've felt brave enough to do so. Dumping Josh was so overdue and now I've decided to focus my attention on Castle, his recovery, and my walls. I figure I'll need his help since I've built them tall and thick.

He's in pain! I can tell from the pinched look on his face and the deep furrows between those expressive eyebrows of his. His breathing is labored and he's grunting with each inhalation.

He's trying so hard to open his eyes and I silently cheer him on. I need him to see me here beside him and I need to see his eyes and let him know that I'm all in, ready to meet him more than halfway.

Castle

I have to tell Beckett. She has to know. She's waited so long and now we have…

Beckett

He's trying so hard to wake up and it's a losing battle. The medication they've given him for the pain will keep him under for hours yet.

I think it's safe for me to slip out and bum a cup of decent coffee from the nurses.

Castle

I think…I think I called out for her. I can't tell. Throat sore. Stomach is on FIRE…

Beckett

He's mumbling my name. I wish he would wake up so I could let him know he's not alone. I wish…I wish this had never happened. Three innocent people are dead because Rick did the right thing. And Cynthia – I don't hate her. I just pity her. Okay, I really, really hate her for what she's done to him.

He squeezed my hand!

"Rick, it's Kate, Kate Beckett. I'm here and you're not alone and you're going to be fine. You know I wouldn't lie to you. You're on the mend but it won't be easy but I'll be with you as much as I can. Rick? Can you hear me?"

I know he squeezed my hand! I know he did.

Castle

I hear Beckett saying nice things. She's holding my hand, I think. I need to tell her about what I found…I need to tell her…


	13. Chapter 13

Still in Mexico. Probably through month end. Here's a little something to keep your interest up.

_The Stalking_ by Oldest Man

Chapter 13

Beckett

I debate calling a nurse to check on him. He's so restless and I don't doubt that he's in pain even though he's 'sleeping'. I've heard others talk about the horrible pain of a stomach wound and now I'm seeing the truth of those memories of others – pain they couldn't put words to.

I hear him softly say my name "Kate" and then there's that pinched look again as he whispers it more intensely. One eye opens and then the other, unfocused but at least he's awake.

"Kate, loft, desk," a groan and then "found changes, go, now…" and he's asleep again although I don't think it's restful. After each breath there's a grunting sound that's soft but clearly audible. I'm going to drag the nurse in here. I pull my hand from his and walk out into the corridor searching for a nurse or doctor, anyone who can ease his pain.

Castle

"Kate, loft, desk," I think I say. Not sure. Can hardly breathe. Each breath hurts so badly I want to scream but that means taking a _deep_ breath and even now I know that's a bad thing to do so I whisper, "found changes, go, now…" There. I've done it. I've told her…wait…I didn't tell her _what_ changes.

"In'vest'ing of'cer name changed. Dif'ernt font." I'm exhausted from a few simple words.

Martha

His office is a mess. Those police officers were so nice but so messy. His papers and files are strewn all over the desk and he's so tidy, almost anal about having his desk neat.

I'll just stack these papers and put them in a folder in the center of his desk. He can sort them into the proper order when he gets home.

Some of these are copies of official police files. I'll take them in to the hospital and give them to Kate. They might be important.

Beckett

I finally found a sympathetic nurse who called Rick's doctor at home and got orders for an IV sedative to ease his pain. His face no longer has that pinched look although now that he's not in pain it's so pale looking.

I turn my cell on and check for messages. I need to call the Captain and ask for more time off. I have it coming and I want to spend as much time as possible with him, even if he's sleeping. Someone needs to watch over him and make sure the medical staff tends to his needs when he needs it, not when it's convenient for them.

I'll slip out and down to the lobby and make my calls. When Martha gets here I'll ask her if it's okay if I check out Rick's desk. He seemed really demanding that I check out some papers. Something he found.

I'm amazed that his first thought on waking was the quiet investigation we are conducting. My first thought would have been…about Josh or my Dad but not Rick. I guess I'm done lying to myself, ignoring what others see so plainly. My first thoughts on waking are frequently about Castle. Sometimes they're 'naughty' thoughts left over from dreams. Yeah, I've had smokin' hot sex with Richard Castle but only in dreams.

Someday though…

Martha

I see Kate standing alone at the balcony railing talking on her cell phone. I wonder if she stayed the night or just got here? I wait for her to finish her business and when she turns and sees me, her smile tells me that he's doing as well as can be expected. Her eyes tell me she's been here longer than I thought.

"Kate, darling, let's grab coffee and you can fill me in on how he's doing. You look tired. Didn't you sleep at all?"

Beckett

I'm on vacation until further notice. Roy said 'you've got more time accrued than I should have allowed. You're in danger of burning out, Beckett, so take the time to recharge your batteries and improve your Castle connection. Oh, yeah, like anyone with ONE bad eye can't see how he feels and how hard you're trying to ignore it. Connect, Beckett. You won't be sorry.'

Little did he know that I've already made my connection. I giggle and I know Martha must think I'm punch drunk but I was just imagining…oh, not so proper image when I'm standing next to his mother!

I tell Martha that I'm on paid leave since I've accrued a lot of time and that, if it's okay with her, I'll spend as much time as possible with Rick. I can tell from the subtle smirk-like smile that I'm so damned transparent to this woman that it's like she can read my mind. God, I hope not!

Her smile changes into a look I don't recognize. She fumbles in her huge bag and brings forth a manila folder crammed full of papers.

"Kate, these were on Richard's desk when he was…well, the police made a mess of things and some of these files are official files I thought maybe related to a current case. Here. Go through them and if any are yours, please take them. Lord knows when he'll have time to sort through them himself…"

She was prattling on, trying to avoid the circumstances of her having these files in the first place. I don't blame her one bit. I'm really good at denial and sublimation and deflection but I can see the ache in her eyes.

"Martha, why don't you go up and see your son. I'll sit down here and go through these and be up in a few minutes. I do want to go home and shower and change. I don't want to look like a scum – er, skuzzball when he sees me."

"Darling Kate, I don't think Richard will care one bit what you're wearing. He'll be more concerned with the worry lines and sleeplessness. Why don't you go home, shower and relax a bit and take the time to review those and maybe nap. He'll be fine with just me around until you come back. And Kate, please, consider the loft your home for the duration."

I'm shocked and touched by her words. Apparently _everyone _but me knows how Rick feels even though he threw himself into a relationship with the blonde bitch that tried to kill him. I think she's right and tell her so. Impulsively, for me, I pull her into a quick hug and whisper 'thanks' and then I'm off for my apartment and a shower.

Castle  
>Later in the day<p>

I have to admit that the doctor pulled no punches. He was brutally honest and forthright. He even took a few minutes to explain exactly what the next three months of my life were going to be like. While I appreciate candor, I wish he hadn't used words like 'debilitating', 'painful', 'embarrassing' and 'a few more operations'. I especially hated 'after care facility'.

I do like the pain management controller he showed me how to use. One push of the button and I'm off in La-La Land. I wish there was some way I could avoid returning for a few months. Oblivion beckons with the offer of delicious nothingness. I hate feeling afraid to breathe, cough or laugh. Laugh? Nothing to laugh about. Let's see how this gadget works…

Alexis

Grams meet me in the corridor outside Dad's room. She called and told me to hold off coming in since he's been asleep but she called me just half and hour ago to 'please come talk with your father, Alexis. He needs you.'

Grams sat in on the doctor's visit and she was really upset. Her plans to have Dad at the loft were gently scuttled by the doctor. He wants Dad in a 'convalescent facility' to ensure that he regains his strength and as much of his life as he can. He told Grams bluntly that 'no amount of mother's love can take the place of quality care'. I think that pissed her off more than Dad's agreeing with the doctor.

I walk into his room with a big smile on my face. I don't want him worried about me. I don't want him to see how much this is hurting me. I never liked Cynthia. I hate her now. If she wasn't already dead I think I could kill her easily and without regret. One look at my dad's face confirms it. I could kill her without a single bit of regret or remorse.

He returns my smile with a shadow of my own but whispers 'hello, Pumpkin' and I start to cry. I know it's just the reaction to the stress but I can't help myself. I came here to offer comfort to him and all I've done is upset him. He's not dying. He's going to live so why am I falling apart now?

I fall asleep lying in his bed with my head on his shoulder just like when I was little, the sound of the Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra lullaby comforting me more than I could imagine.


	14. Chapter 14

Finished replacing the clay tiles on the roof and now drinking a beer and watching the waves and piddling with the stories I've got working. Yawn. Nap time in Mexico.

OM

* * *

><p>The Stalking<br>Chapter 14

Castle

I think she's finally cried herself to sleep. My Pumpkin, my Princess, fell asleep to an old lullaby I used to sing to her when she was sick. Didn't think I'd remember the words but they flowed back from someplace.

I didn't need to hit the pain button once. Maybe it's her closeness or maybe it's Nature's way of allowing one to overcome obstacles to protect one's loved ones. I don't know but I'm damned grateful.

I don't know how long she's slept and I don't care. Her tears soaked the gown but it's dry now so it's been some time. She needs her sleep. Stress is not good for a growing girl. She starts to fuss in her sleep so I sing again to her, amazed at how easily she slips back into sleep and how soothing the melody is to me.

I think God that she and Mother weren't at the loft when Cynthia dropped by. I have no doubt at all that she'd have killed them, too. I mean, killed them. I'm still hanging in there. She's fussing again. Must be a bad dream. I sing the lullaby again and the frown on her face eases as she sinks deeper into sleep.

Beckett

I start to walk into his room when I hear him singing. I chance a peek and see Alexis curled up beside him on the bed with his free arm around her and her head on his shoulder. I wonder if she's awake but then I see her start to struggle to awaken. . Castle starts singing again, hugging her to him. I can see how it hurts him to do so but I know he'd go through fire for his little girl.

He has a sweet, deep voice, very soothing and I can see him as a younger man cuddling his baby daughter and crooning her to sleep. I can see him singing to our child, sitting in a rocking chair in a brightly painted nursery. Yeah, our child. I suddenly want to have his baby. It must be the lack of really sound sleep or something else because I, Kate Beckett, have _never_ entertained the slightest thought about having anyone's child. Never.

Until now.

He sees me and he smiles, although it's a phantom of the usual smile I'm greeted with. I see the stress on his face and I wonder what having his daughter snuggled up against him is 'costing' him. I'm sure it's a price he's willing to pay.

He says 'Hey' very softly and I wave and walk quietly up beside the bed and lean over and kiss him gently on the lips. I wish I had a camera for the look that washes over his face. Pure shocked delight.

I feel almost the same way. Delighted. I've been wanting to do that, albeit with a lot less clothing and a lot more participation on his part, for weeks now. No, months. Definitely not a year. Yeah, months.

"Before you freak out, Castle, I need you to know something. Are you awake enough to listen and understand? It's really important that you are because I'm not sure when I'll have the courage to say this." I speak very softly because I want to get it done once I start and I don't want to awaken Alexis.

He looks at me for two or three seconds and then gravely nods his head. I take a deep breath and begin.

I tell him that Josh is gone and should have been gone weeks before but that I was hanging on to a lost cause and I didn't know why. Now I am free of 'entanglements' and I want to take our friendship to the next level. I confess that I'm terrified of losing what we have today because it's so damned precious to me but that if he'll just be patient with me…

A nurse interrupts my plea with the need to 'check on our vitals' and I immediately sit back, chagrin coloring my face. I feel the heat of the blush and know that I'm beet red. The nurse makes 'tsk tsk' sounds when Alexis begins to awaken and says 'you are being foolhardy, Mr. Castle. You just had major surgery and that child should _not_ be lying on you. Really, what is she, 2 or so?'

I almost laugh out loud when Castle screws up his face and sticks out his tongue at Nurse Ding-Dong and throws her the finger to boot. She makes huffy sounds and leaves, casting hate looks over her shoulder at him. He grins and looks at me in triumph. The man-child I've fallen in love with has reappeared and all seems right with the world for a while.

Rick makes 'come here' gestures with the fingers of the arm around Alexis and so I sidle up to the bed and he whispers 'Go on, Kate. If I'll just be patient…?'

Oh, God, I can feel my courage slipping away but I really want to get it out there for him to see.

"Rick, I want us to date. To have a normal man-woman relationship. I want us to spend time together and I want…I want to see where this goes. I really, really like you, Rick, and…shit, that sounds so like me talking to Bradley Lodge in 7th grade."

He beckons me down towards him. I really don't want our first real kiss to be over top of his daughter but I lean in anyway, meeting him so that he doesn't have to life his head from the pillow.

"I want that too, Kate, more than you know but you deserve a guy who's not…" He hesitates and then closes his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.

"What? Who's not what?"

"Who's not a cripple with a shortened life expectancy and issues that go way beyond what I'm willing to discuss with you now."

"Rick, it doesn't matter to me that you're hurt now. Jesus, you got out of major surgery and you're hurting now. I just wanted you to know that once you're ready, so am I, Rick. So am I."

Alexis

I wake up to voices and for just a moment I panic. Then I hear a woman's voice ask if I'm 2…bitch. Then Kate starts to talk, rambling on and obviously very nervous. She's telling my dad…that she wants a relationship and I can tell she's very serious.

I wish I wasn't here. I don't need to hear this. I don't…then I hear my dad say he's crippled and has a 'shortened life expectancy'. He's not going to die! He can't. So what if he's crippled. Lots of people have problems. Thank God Kate pushes past it and tells him when he's ready so is she.

I hear Kate leave and so I just snuggle up close to my dad and enjoy being with him. Kate Castle has a nice sound to it.

I think I fell asleep because the next thing I know Grams' asking me to 'wake up' so that dad can be checked out by a doctor.

This doctor doesn't give me the hairy eyeball. He smiles and apologizes for interrupting my time with my dad but then asks Grams and I to wait in the hall. He's cute in a geeky sort of way.

Castle

If only Kate and I had had this talk before I got hurt. Is it pity? Remorse? She dumped Josh. When and why? I thought he was her Mr. Right?

Damn it! I forgot to tell her about those papers on my desk. She needs to check them out for sure. A good solid lead for the first time in forever.

I make a big mistake and look down at what the doctor's fiddling with. I look like a gutted turkey before the bird is stuffed. I thought they – oh, crap, that hurts – a lot.

I mash the pain juice button and now I don't care how much he pokes and prods. I feel great.

He's talking to me and I'm nodding my head but I don't understand a single thing he's saying. I just grin and nod my head a lot. It must be the right thing to do because he smiles at me and pats my shoulder and makes notes in my chart and then waves and leaves.

Martha

I ran into Kate Beckett and she's all smiles for once. I know something's changed between her and Richard because she won't quit smiling or talking about the future. I'm pleased. Finally someone who sees him for who he is not what he is.

She promises to spend the night at the loft but she's got something to take care of at the Precinct before going on vacation. I remind her to look at the documents I found on Richard's desk and then she's gone.

A nice doctor walks into Richard's room and then right back out again with a silly smile on his face. He asks me to 'wake up the teenager hugging her dad' so that he can check on the wound.

I wish I had a camera. This picture is worth having on display. I'd insist it go on his next book jacket.

Fifteen minutes later the doctor comes out, smiles and tells us that Richard is 'progressing nicely' and then tells us not to expect too much in the way of sensible conversation since he's on some heavy pain medication. I look at Alexis and she's thinking the same thing. 'Sensible conversation?' We both start laughing. It feels good to laugh again.


	15. Chapter 15

I know it's been a while but real life has a way of getting in the way…

Sorry it's so short but leading up to the big finish.

Chapter 15

Martha

I hate hospitals and I hate the fact that my boy, my only blessing in life or so it seems, is in one. Alexis has gone home, satisfied that her daddy is alive and on the mend but thankfully ignorant of just how long and painful the 'mending' is going to be. I hope God grants him the strength to push forward, recover and then finally find love and a good woman to spend the rest of his days with.

I can't watch as the pain lines etched in his face deepen even in sleep but I'm glad he has the controller that lets him 'dose' himself when needed. Even as he sleeps his hand caresses it and I wonder if it's increasing the possibilities of addiction. That's what the young doctor told us – avoiding addiction to the pain meds would be his biggest challenge.

Once again I marvel at how perfectly exact his hands are to those of his father. I promised myself that I'd tell him who his father is before I pass on but now I'm not sure if that's the right thing to do. I'm sure that he knows. People have often commented on how much Richard looks like…

Beckett

I really needed that shower. I feel clean and renewed. Okay, time to quit lying to myself. I feel much better because Richard Castle and I are finally going to move forward – together. I felt so…so damned scared when I saw him and then I just blurted it all out even risking waking Alexis.

He has reservations. He's being noble, damn him, giving me an out. He rambled on about how I needed someone who had a normal life expectancy and was free of 'issues' he wouldn't talk about. Damn him and his nobility. He loves me. How can he just…ignore what I'm saying? I want him. I will have him. There. My mind's made up.

I see my big purse and the files that Martha gave me. I promised to drop by the loft later but I first want to see what's got Castle in such a lather about files, fonts and changes.

It's too late to hit the loft now. I've found what he discovered…a conspiracy that seems to have tentacles in every branch of city government. My God, I respected some of these men and I know Castle's friends with many of them and donated time and money to their various campaigns. The sharpest dagger is the deputy commissioner. I worked for him for a year when I first got off street patrol.

I called Martha and explained that I'd lost myself in Castle's files and apologized but she shrugged it off saying "Any time you feel like dropping by, eating dinner with us or watching a movie and spending the night – Kate – we'd love to have you."

I thanked her, wishing my own father felt as much of a connection with me as she seemed to feel.

Castle

I can't sleep – again. I swear if that snooty nurse comes in and 'tsk tsk's one more time I'm going to wrap an IV tube around her neck and laugh when her eyes pop out of her blue face. I'll tell the police that I was dreaming and under the influence of pain killers. Yeah, that would cover my ass nicely.

Three months of rehab and then a steady diet of bland foods and no liquor until everything seemed to work. I used to laugh at those videos of plumbers with their butt cracks and that's how I've come to view my gastroenterology team – as plumbers.

Mother wants me to 'recover at home' of course. She's my mother. That's what mothers want and do. Keep their sick kids close to them. Well, I'm not sick. I'm internally-disorganized, not sick. I've been rearranged and now it's time to face facts: a shortened lifespan and a future full of pablum…quite the future I'd envisioned.

Poor mother. She'll throw a fit when she discovers that her son has a mind of his own and that he's decided on a nice, quiet 'convalescent hospital out on the Island to recover from his gastric reorganization. From there, it's the beach house and privacy – far away from the city and it's damned nosey paparazzi.

I don't want some tabloid displaying the headline 'Noted author craps out his side' for all the world to know. It's going to be hard enough for me to allow my family to know, even though it's 'temporary'. I've been prideful and now it's time to pay the piper but I'll decide the tune.

Privacy will be the watchword from here on out. I'll see my daughter and my mother but no one else. Not Meredith, and certainly not Gina. I'll write the final _Heat_ book and then – blessed anonymity.

I've already got the title to work from. _Heat Stroke. _A play on words since I'll be cutting myself off from the world and living alone.

The files! I'll give them to Esposito. He'll handle them. I trust the guys to do what's right. Oh, shit! I gave them to Beckett. What was I thinking?

I had a wonderful dream earlier. Beckett visited, kissed me, and said when I was ready that she wanted to date and see where life took us. I know it was a dream. She has Josh and a life outside the cop shop now. Who in their right mind wants to be hooked up with a cripple with no prospects? Yeah, it was a dream but I wish more than anything that it had been real.

When the nurse comes in after what seems like an eternity, I tell her 'no visitors, please, for a while'. She nods sadly and I can tell she understands. She pats my hand and whispers 'Castle, when you're ready, I'll be waiting'. Another dream?

The nurse returned to her station, made notations in Castle's chart and left a personal note for the doctor.

I feel so damned hot and sweaty and suddenly I'm so tired...

Beckett

Castle's room is empty. According to the nurse he's developed a post-op infection and has been transferred to the surgical ICU unit and is not permitted visitors except for his mother and daughter and they must wear gowns and masks.

I walk down to the ICU waiting area and find Martha sitting alone, staring at nothing way off in the distance. I recognize the look. I've seen it a thousand times on the faces of victims' family.

"Hey, Martha. How's he doing?"

"Oh, Kate, darling! I didn't hear you come up. I – he has a staph infection that is really driving the doctors up the wall. It's resistant to some things they normally use but they're sure it's just a day or two more until they've licked it. He's…he's in and out and they're going to put him into a medical coma to allow his body to rest. I'm – I'm really frightened, Kate. He's so pale and…"

I offer silly and empty platitudes about how the doctors know what they're doing and about how stubborn Rick is and how he'll bounce back like always. It helps her but leaves me feeling empty.

"Kate, get a clean gown and go in and see him. No one will know and honestly, they shouldn't care. You need to see him and know that he's still hanging in there. Talk to him. Sometimes he responds but most time…"

I'm gowned and masked and have my hair up in a net and have gloves on and I'm sitting by his bedside in nothing flat. Bless Martha. If he's in an induced coma, he won't respond. She did this for _me_ and I'm so glad she did.

I whisper in his ear that I need him and love him and that no matter what, we will be together. I'm falling deeper and deeper for this quiet man who is so unlike his normal self. I curse Cynthia and wish I could have taken her life like she's taken so much of ours. That thought shames me.

I tell Rick how I found the changes to the reports and thanked him but warned him that nothing was going to distract me from my 'hot pursuit' of a certain writer. I had my priorities straight for once. The living trump the dead.

His hand is warm and alive in mine. It's a perfect fit.

More later. sorry for the brevity.


End file.
